"But the words I have are the words of Genius."
"Is the genius dead?" asked the dealer.
"Not yet, but he is being hounded by a critic."
"I'll take them in trade," suggested the dealer.
"What do you offer?" asked Gud.
"Anything you wish. I have a very complete catalog on crimes."
"I am interested in sin in a sort of professional way," admitted Gud, "let me see your goods."
Very graciously the dealer escorted Gud through the chambers where his stock of sins was stored.
It was a magnificent collection. There were huge piles of thefts of property and of honor and virtue and of good name, and great bales of untold lies. There were infinite infidelities and even a greater number of credulities. There were a few ragged ends not justified by the means, and many tyrannical prohibitions and faded blue laws, and a carefully locked cabinet, labeled "Old Maids' Wishes."
There were easy sins for beginners and more difficult sins for hardened criminals. There were sins with which children might please their fathers and sins for fathers to visit upon their children and their children's children. There were sins against men which are often forgiven and sins against women which are never forgiven. There were sins for the rich and sins for the poor, and a few rare sins suitable for both.