His perception of her personal beauty deepened and quickened with each encounter. ‘I’ve never found a woman who did not drive me into a frenzy of boredom. I can’t even carry a tune with a bucket. It presented itself in the likeness of a great, gray, dull world—a brutal, superstitious, confused, and wrong-headed world, that hurt people and limited people unaccountably. With this view, he descended the hill and presently found a footpath leading to the church. ” The cab rumbled off. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato. He was roused from the stupor of despair into which he had sunk by the voice of Ben, who roared in his ear, "The bridge!—the bridge!" CHAPTER VII.
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