“Easier said than done.”
“Oh no; the world must be treated as one would treat a maniac who brandished a razor in one’s face. Direct defiance argues folly worse than his.”
“Of course, but all this subterfuge and deceit is hateful.”
“Not if one considers the facts of the case. The maniac-world insists upon uniformity and obedience, especially in that department of life where uniformity is impossible. You don’t suppose that it is ever really attained by any human being who deserves the name? Never! We all wear the livery of our master and live our own lives not the less.”
“Ah, I doubt that,” said Hadria. “I think the livery affects us all, right through to the bones and marrow. What young clergyman was it who told me that as soon as he put on his canonicals, he felt a different man, mind, heart, and personality?”
“Well, your livery has never made you, Hadria, and that is all I care for.”
“Indeed, I am not so sure.”
“It has not turned you out a Mrs. Jordan or a Mrs. Walker, for instance.”
“To the great regret of my well-wishers.”
“To the great regret of your inferiors. There is nothing that people regret so bitterly as superiority to themselves.” Hadria laughed.