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The Crown of Life by George Gissing
page 81 of 482 (16%)
the ragged, muddy crossing-sweeper; alike, they were lost in the
huge welter of common London. On the other hand, there in the
hard-fronted, exclusive-looking house sat Irene Derwent, a pearl of
women, the prize of wealth, distinction, and high manliness. What
was this wild dream he had been harbouring? Like a chill wind,
reality smote him in the face; he turned away, saying to himself
that he was cured of folly.

On the journey home he shaped a project. He would seek an interview
with the head of the City house in which he had spent so much time
and worked so conscientiously, a quite approachable man as he knew
from experience, and would ask if he might be allowed to re-enter
their service not, however, in London, but in their place of
business at Odessa. He had made a good beginning with Russian, and
living in Russia, might hope soon to master the language. If
necessary, he would support himself at Odessa for a time, until he
was capable of serving the firm in some position of trust. Yes, this
was what he would do; it gave him a new hope. For Alexander, foolish
fellow as he might be in some respects, had spoken the truth on the
subject of money-making; the best and surest way was by honourable
commerce. Money he must have; a substantial position; a prospect of
social advance. Not for their own sake, these things, but as steps
to the only end he felt worth living for--an ideal marriage.

He marvelled that the end of life should have been so obscure to him
hitherto. Knowledge! What satisfaction was there in that? Fame! What
profit in that by itself? Yet he had thought these aims predominant;
had been willing to toil day and night in such pursuits. His eyes
were opened. His first torturing love might be for ever frustrate,
but it had revealed him to himself. He looked forth upon the world,
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