Lawrence's New England ancestry
or acquired in long residence in Italy and Spain.
Two glasses of sauterne at luncheon loosened his tongue, and he talked,
with what he felt was something of his old charm, of religion and
literature and the menacing phenomena of the social order. Mrs. Lawrence
was ostensibly pleased with him, and her interest was especially in his
mind; he wanted people to like his mind again--after a while it might be
such a nice place in which to live.
"Monsignor Darcy still thinks that you're his reincarnation, that your
faith will eventually clarify."
"Perhaps," he assented. "I'm rather pagan at present. It's just that
religion doesn't seem to have the slightest bearing on life at my age."
When he left her house he walked down Riverside Drive with a feeling of
satisfaction. It was amusing to discuss again such subjects as this
young poet, Stephen Vincent Benet, or the Irish Republic. Between the
rancid accusations of Edward Carson and Justice Cohalan he had completely
tired of the Irish question; yet there had been a time when his own
Celtic traits were pillars of his personal philosophy.
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