Mr. Banner Hope added, “Woman’s stuff,” to show that he was a man.
Emily looked much disconcerted but she said, “I suppose it is a bit trivial.”
“And foggy, too,” added an alarming University student. “It has no message at all.”
“It is not worth writing or reading,” said the white critic in a final voice.
“It’s a song,” objected Emily. “And songs needn’t be messengers surely. Songs are for fancy to hear, not for brains to digest. Perhaps songs shouldn’t try to have any meaning at all. They shouldn’t try really to have even words. Or perhaps just beautiful words without sequence ... silver and asphodel and Merrimac and darling and mariposa and meagre and rusty....”
“Well, this song tries to have a meaning and fails,” said the student. He was a dark, thick young man, and his complacency, very logically, was not impaired at all by the poorness of his clothes or complexion. The fact that his collar was very high and not at all clean seemed typical of him.
Edward’s heart turned cold when he thought of his poem at the mercy of that young man. He said, “At least that last poem makes a picture behind my eyes.”
“It doesn’t penetrate behind mine, I’m glad to say,” said Melsie Ponting tartly, and many people laughed, supposing that she had said something witty. A smart voice is a great asset.
Rhoda began reading again with an abruptness which left many dazed for a few seconds.