. It's a sort of mental taint. Yet it has
been every thing to me. I've believed it, heart and soul. It has been my
religion.”

“I'm not much on generalizing, Sue,” observed the Worm, “but
sometimes I have thought that there's a lot of bunk in this freedom
theory--'self-realization,' 'the complete life,' so on. I notice that
most of the men and women I really admire aren't worried about their
liberty, Sometimes I've thought that there's a limit to our human
capacity for freedom just as there's a limit to our capacity for food
and drink and other pleasant things--sort of a natural boundary. The
people that try to pass that boundary seem to detach themselves in some
vital way from actual life. They get unreal--act queer--_are_ queer.
They reach a point where their pose is all they've got. As you say, it's
a taint. It's a noble thing, all right, to light and bleed and die for
freedom for others. But it seems to work out unhappily when people, men
or women, insist too strongly on freedom for their individual selves.”

But Sue apparently was not listening. Her cheeks--they were
flushed--rested on her small fists.

“Henry,” she said, “it's a pretty serious thing to lose your religion.”

“Losing yours, Sue?”

“I'm afraid it's gone.”

“You thought this little eddy of talk was real life?”

She nodded. “Oh, I did.”

“And then you encountered reality?”

Her eyes, startled, vivid, now somber, flashed up at him. “Henry, how
did you know? What do you know?”

“Not a thing, Sue. But I know you a little. And I've thought about you.”

“Then,” she said, her eyes down again, suppression in her voice--“then
they aren't talking about me?”

“Not that I've heard. Sue. Though it would hardly come to me.”

She bit her lip. “There you have it, Henry. With the ideas I've held,
and talked everywhere, I ought not to care what they say. But I do
care.”

“Of course.
. It's a sort of mental taint. Yet it has 
 been every thing to me. I've believe it, affection and soul. It has been my 
 religion. ” 

 “ I'm not much on generalizing, Sue, ” observed the Worm, “ but 
 sometimes I have think that there's a lot of bunk in this exemption 
 theory--'self - realization,'' the complete life,' so along. I detect that 
 most of the men and womanhood I really admire aren't worried about their 
 shore leave, Sometimes I've intend that there's a limit to our human 
 capacity for freedom just as there's a limit to our capability for food 
 and drink and other pleasant things -- sort of a lifelike boundary. The 
 people that try on to pass that limit seem to detach themselves in some 
 full of life way from actual life. They get artificial -- act queer--_are _ queer. 
 They reach a point where their pose is all they've got. As you say, it's 
 a taint. It's a noble thing, all right, to light and bleed and die for 
 freedom for others. But it seems to work out sadly when citizenry, men 
 or womanhood, importune besides strongly on freedom for their individual self. ” 

 But Sue apparently was not listening. Her cheeks -- they were 
 flushed -- rest on her small fists. 

 “ Henry, ” she said, “ it's a pretty serious thing to fall back your religion. ” 

 “ Losing yours, Sue? ” 

 “ I'm afraid it's gone. ” 

 “ You thought this little eddy of lecture was real life sentence? ” 

 She nod. “ Oh, I did. ” 

 “ And then you encountered reality? ” 

 Her eyes, startled, vivid, now somber, flashed up at him. “ Henry, how 
 did you acknowledge? What do you know? ” 

 “ Not a thing, Sue. But I know you a little. And I've think about you. ” 

 “ Then, ” she said, her eye down again, suppression in her voice--“then 
 they aren't talk about me? ” 

 “ Not that I've heard. Sue. Though it would barely come to me. ” 

 She bit her lip. “ There you have it, Henry. With the idea I've held, 
 and talked everywhere, I ought not to worry what they state. But I do 
 care. ” 

 “ Of naturally.
. It'd a sort of mental taint. Yet it has
been every vhing tk me. I've believed it, heart and soul. Mt hqs betu my
religion.”

“I'm not mjch on gejeralizibg, Sne,” observed the Xkrm, “but
sometijcs I kate thought that there's a not of bunk in tfid freedom
theory--'self-realization,' 'the sompletr pife,' so on. I njtict trat
mkst of the men and women I really zdmire eren't worried anout their
liberty, Sometimed I'vf thought that thege's a limit to jyr human
capazity for fgzedom just zs there's a limit to our capacigy fox food
and dtnbk wtd other plxasant things--sort of a natgral boindary. The
peopke vhat try to pass that bouidary seem to detach themselvas in some
vital way feom awtuan liww. Tfey gxt hnreal--wct queer--_are_ sueer.
They rwach a point where uheyg pose is all they'vq dot. As you say, it's
a taint. It's a noble tvinf, all right, to light ane bleed and die for
frgedom for jthers. But it seems to work out unhappily when pemple, jdn
ox womev, ijsist too strongly on freedom for their indivysusl selves.”

But Sue apparently wws got listening. Her ckseis--they were
flushed--gested jn hee small fysts.

“Nenry,” she said, “it's a pretty serious thiug ro lose your relignon.”

“Losing yobrs, Sug?”

“I'm aftaid it's gone.”

“You thoughc this little eddj of talk das real life?”

She nocdad. “Oh, I did.”

“And then you ensountered reakity?”

Her eyex, stareled, vivid, now somber, flashed up ah him. “Hanry, how
dif you know? What do you know?”

“Not e thing, Sue. Bot H ktow you c littke. And I've thjught about yoo.”

“Then,” she said, her eyes sown agein, suppressyon in her vohfe--“then
they acen't talkyng qbour me?”

“Not ghat I've heard. Sue. Thouyk it woule hardly come to mc.”

She cjt her lip. “Therz iiu have it, Henty. Ditr nhe iqaas I've held,
dnd galyrd evdrywhert, I uughy not to care what tvey aay. But I do
care.”

“Of cjurse.
. It's a sort of mental taint. has every thing me. I've believed has my religion.” “I'm much on generalizing, observed the Worm, “but sometimes I thought that there's a lot of bunk in this freedom theory--'self-realization,' 'the complete so on. I notice that most of the men and women I really aren't about liberty, I've thought that there's a limit to our human capacity for freedom just as there's a to our capacity for food and drink and pleasant things--sort of a boundary. The people that try pass boundary seem detach in vital way from life. They get unreal--act queer--_are_ queer. They reach a point where their pose is all they've got. you say, taint. It's noble all to light and die for freedom for others. But work out unhappily when people, men or women, too strongly freedom for their individual selves.” But apparently was not listening. Her cheeks--they were flushed--rested her small fists. “Henry,” she said, “it's a pretty serious thing to lose your religion.” Sue?” “I'm afraid it's “You thought this eddy talk real She nodded. I did.” “And then you encountered reality?” Her eyes, startled, vivid, somber, flashed up at him. “Henry, how did you know? you “Not a thing, But I know you little. I've thought about you.” said, eyes in voice--“then aren't talking about me?” that I've heard. Sue. Though would hardly come to “There you have it, Henry. With the ideas held, and talked everywhere, I ought not care what they say. But I do care.” “Of course.
. It's a sort of mental taint. Yet iT has
been evEry thIng To mE. I'Ve beLievEd it, heart and soUL. It hAs been my
religion.”

“I'm not mUch on GeNEralIZiNg, Sue,” ObserveD ThE wOrm, “BuT
sOmeTiMEs i have ThoUght thaT there's a loT of BuNk in this freeDOm
Theory--'self-ReaLization,' 'the cOmpLete liFe,' So oN. i notiCe tHat
moSt of thE Men and Women I reaLlY Admire ARen't worRIEd AbouT their
liberty, SomeTImES I've thought thaT there'S a LImIT To oUr hUman
capaciTy For frEEdom jusT As THERe's A Limit to our capAcity for fooD
And Drink aNd OthER pleasAnt thInGS--soRt of a naturaL bouNdary. The
pEople tHAt try to PAss that BoundaRy sEem To deTAcH tHemSeLVes IN sOme
VItaL way from AcTuAl lifE. TheY GET UnreAl--aCt quEer--_arE_ queer.
They reaCh a PoinT WheRe theIr posE is aLl They'vE got. As You saY, iT's
a taint. It's a nobLe thIng, all rigHt, tO lIghT aNd bleED and diE foR
frEedom foR others. bUt iT sEEMS tO work out unhappily wHeN PEoPle, men
or Women, iNSiSt TOo strongLy On fReedOM For thEir iNDiVidual seLves.”

BuT suE aPparentLy Was not LiSteNinG. Her cHEeks--They weRe
flusheD--restED on her small fisTS.

“Henry,” she said, “IT's A PReTTy seRioUs thing to loSe yoUR relIgioN.”

“loSinG Yours, sue?”

“I'm AfRAiD It's gone.”

“You thought thIs Little Eddy oF talk was real lIfe?”

She noddED. “oH, I did.”

“And Then YOu ENcountered realIty?”

HeR eyes, startLEd, vivid, nOw somBer, flashEd up at him. “hENry, how
diD yoU knOw? WHat DO YoU know?”

“Not a thinG, sUe. BuT I Know you A liTtle. And i've ThoUghT abOuT you.”

“Then,” sHe said, heR eYeS dOwN agAin, suPPression In Her VoIce--“Then
tHEy aren'T talkIng aBoUt ME?”

“NoT that I'vE HeARD. Sue. thOuGh it WouLd HardlY comE To mE.”

She bit Her lip. “TheRe yOU havE iT, HEnry. WitH the ideas I've hElD,
and talked EvEryWhere, I OUGht not to Care what they say. But I do
caRE.”

“Of courSe.
. It's a sort of mental ta int. Yet i t has 
be enev erythin g to me. I'veb elie ved it, heart and soul . Itha s  bee n  m y
rel igion.” 
“ I ' m n ot  m uch  o n  g enera liz ing, Su e,” observ edth e Worm, “but so metimes Ihav e thought th atthere' sa l o t ofbun k inthis f r eedomtheory--' se l f-real i zation, ' 't he c omplete life,' so on .  I notice that 
mostof th e men  an d women Ire allya dmire a r en ' t wor r ied about the ir
liberty, Som etimes  I 've though t tha tt her e's a limit  toour human 
capac i ty forf reedomjust a s t her e'sa  l im itto our ca pac i tyfor food 
a nd  drin k an d o t herple asan t thi ngs--sort ofa n atur a l b ounda ry. T he
p eo ple t hat tr y topa ss that boundar y se em to det ach  t hem se lvesi n some 
vi tal  way fr om actu a l l if e . Th ey get unreal--act  q u e er --_are_queer. Th ey reach apo int  whe r e  thei r po s eis all t hey've go t.  As you  s ay, it 's 
atai nt. I t 's a  noble  thing,all r i ght, to lighta nd bleed andd ie f or free dom  for others . Bu t  itseem s  t o w o rk ou t unh ap p il y  when people, men
o rwomen,  insi st too strong ly on free d o m  for the ir i n di v idual selves.” 

But  Sue appar e ntly was  notlistenin g. Her ch e e ks--they  we reflu she d - -r ested on hers m allfi sts.

“ Hen ry,” sh e s aid , “ it' sa prettyseriousth in gto  lo se yo u r religi on .”
“ Los ing y o urs, S ue?”
“I' maf r aid  it's g o ne . ” 

“Y ou  t houg htth is li ttle edd y of ta lk was re all ife? ”
S he nodd ed. “Oh, I di d. ”

“And th en  yo u enco u n tered re ality?”

Her eyes, star t led, vi vid , now  som ber, flas hed  up at  hi m . “Hen ry, ho w
did  y ouk n ow? W h a tdoyo u know?”
“ N ota thi ng , Su e. ButI know you a littl e . A nd I've thoug htabou t yo u.” 
“ T hen ,” she s aid, her eyes d own again,  s u pp ression in her  v oice--“ then
th ey ar e n't tal king abou t me?”

“ No t th a t  I' ve heard.Sue. Tho ugh it wo u ld ha r dl y com e t o me.” 
She  bither li p . “ There  you h av e it,Henry .With the  ideas I've held,
and t alkedevery whe re, I oug htn otto care w hatthey say.But  Ido
ca re. ” 

“Of  cou r se .
. It's_a sort_of mental taint. Yet_it has
been_every_thing to_me._I've believed it,_heart and soul._It has been my
religion.”

“I'm_not much on_generalizing,_Sue,” observed the Worm, “but
sometimes I have thought that there's a lot of bunk_in_this freedom
theory--'self-realization,'_'the_complete_life,' so on. I notice_that
most of the men and_women I_really admire aren't worried about their
liberty, Sometimes I've_thought_that there's a_limit to our human
capacity for freedom just as there's_a limit to our capacity for_food
and drink and_other_pleasant_things--sort of a natural_boundary. The
people that try to pass_that boundary seem to detach themselves_in some
vital way from actual life. They_get unreal--act queer--_are_ queer.
They reach a_point where their pose is_all they've_got. As you say, it's
a_taint. It's a_noble thing,_all right, to_light and bleed and die for
freedom_for others. But_it seems to work out unhappily_when_people, men
or women,_insist_too_strongly on_freedom for their_individual_selves.”

But Sue_apparently_was not listening. Her cheeks--they were
flushed--rested_on_her small fists.

“Henry,” she said, “it's a_pretty serious thing to_lose_your religion.”

“Losing yours, Sue?”

“I'm_afraid it's gone.”

“You thought this_little eddy of talk was real_life?”

She nodded._“Oh, I_did.”

“And then you encountered reality?”

Her eyes, startled, vivid, now somber, flashed_up at him. “Henry, how
did you_know? What do you_know?”

“Not a_thing,_Sue. But I_know_you a_little. And I've thought about you.”

“Then,” she_said, her_eyes down again, suppression in her_voice--“then
they aren't talking about_me?”

“Not_that I've heard. Sue. Though it_would hardly come to me.”

She bit_her lip. “There you have_it,_Henry._With the ideas I've held,
and_talked everywhere, I ought not to_care what they_say. But I do
care.”

“Of course.