"There, that sordid, wizen old lady, a miser to judge by her
appearance, she is eyeing me maliciously now, but I say all her
eyeing is in vain; she pinched and scraped and starved herself for
me. Yes, I possess all your savings, and if you were fifty years
younger you would not begrudge them to me."
Laughing at his folly, Mike said, "How close together lie the sane
and the insane; any one who had overheard me would have pronounced me
mad as a March hare, and yet few are saner." He walked twice across
the room. "But I'm mad for the moment, and I like to be mad. Have I
not all things--talent, wealth, love? I asked for life, and I was
given life. I have drunk the cup--no, not to the dregs, there is
plenty more wine in the cup for me; the cup is full, I have not
tasted it yet. Lily! yes, I must get her; a fool I have been; my
letter miscarried, else she would have written. Refuse me! who would
refuse me? Yes, I was born to drink the cup of life as few have drunk
it; I shall drink it even like a Roman emperor ... But they drank it
to madness and crime! Yet even so; I shall drink of life even to
crime.
"The peasant and the card-sharper shall go high, this impetus shall
carry me very high; and Frank Escott, that mean cad, shall go to the
gutter; but he is already there, and I am here! I knew it would be
so; I felt my destiny, I felt it here--in my brain. I felt it even
when he scorned me in boyhood days. I believe that in those days he
expected me to touch my cap to him. But those days are over, new days
have begun. When to-morrow's sun rises it will shine on what is
mine--down-land, meadow-land, park-land, and wood-land. Strange is
the joy of possession; I did not know of its existence. The stately
house too is mine, and I would see it. But that infernal servant, I
suppose, is in bed. I would not have him find me. I shall get rid of
him. I can hear him saying in his pantry, 'He! I wouldn't give much
for him; I found him last night spying about, examining his fine
things, for all the world like a beggar to whom you had given an old
suit of clothes.'"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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