“Why you said that—”
“That’s no reason at all. I simply want to write it. I probably never will. Every newspaper man is going to write a novel or a play. Once in a while somebody does. But he’s usually a rotten newspaper man. Sometimes a cub is lucky enough to get fired. That saves his literary career. If he weren’t fired he would degenerate into a good newspaper man or even an editor. Young Fitzgerald couldn’t hold a job, so he had plenty of time to write books. And didn’t Upton Sinclair try to get a job on a newspaper once? No, of course, you didn’t know. That was a rhetorical question. If you had been able to answer, I’d say it was just a plain, garden variety question.”
“Well, if you haven’t time enough to write, why don’t you resign?” inquired Robert. “Here, get your feet off my coat.”
“All right, it hasn’t spoiled the polish much. But the reason why I don’t resign is because if I did that, I would have to write a novel. I don’t like to be forced to an alternative voluntarily. This way I can simply say I haven’t the time.”
“Well, your words may mean something to you, but they mean very, very little to me.”
“As it should be,” said McCall. “Where are we going to eat? I’ll show you a good place—when I speak it is rather to express myself than to convey thought. Speech arose originally from the need to express certain unique conceptions, ideas or fancies. In fact, it was a disadvantage that anybody else understood one, because that destroyed the uniqueness of one’s idea. Just a minute. I wish to work out the thought. You don’t have to listen if you don’t wish to. If you have ever heard two persons arguing you have undoubtedly noted that neither ever convinces the other, that in fact they never listen to each other’s arguments. That supports my contention. Each person simply talks to express his own ideas, to get rid of them, to work them out of his system. The catharsis, or something, of Plato.”
“Now I notice how much I’ve missed you,” said Robert. “I’ve absolutely forgotten how to talk nonsense.”
“An art acquired only by arduous practice and by the few,” said McCall. “Any damn fool can talk sense.”
He rose leisurely, ran his fingers through his hair and threw his cap on his head. “I say, young fellow,” he suddenly remarked. “Didn’t you say you were going to do something as soon as you got back home, some little thing, some trifle, like getting married?”
Robert acknowledged it.