The Collected Works of George Moore

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1920 edition. Excerpt: ... them one after the other I approach the true reason. Mary was guilty of an indiscretion when she said that she was expecting Mallarme (whom I knew to be her present lover), and the thought of the little man starting forth joyously from his grubby little flat in the Rue de Rome was an unpleasant one. I could think of her only in connection with Mallarme; the thought of waiting to receive him after the betrayal contributed to my irresolution that afternoon, and, returning to the garden, we continued an aimless conversation until he arrived, bringing with him a pastry. The pastry jarred, and rejoicing in my abstinence, I bethought myself of them eating their dinner, falling little by little out of conceit with an adventure that I desired ardently once--ten years ago. . . . Mary and Mallarme accompanied me to the station, and next day she wrote asking me to come and see her; but when I arrived her servant said that she had gone on to the Pavillon d'Armenonville and that I was to meet her there. "My lyre to replace Mallarme's!" I said, and gave up the pursuit of this beautiful woman regretfully. A year after she had fallen in love with a young musician, to whom she left all the dentist's money. My thoughts run upon women; women are the legitimate objects of men's thoughts. While we sit in smokingrooms boring each other with the words "demonetization of silver" on our lips, other words are in our hearts. Woman is man's serious occupation, and to make a start once more into the almost unknown country of sincerity, I will confess that we forget women for a little while when we are thinking about Art, but only for a while; all else is trivial, especially Brahms's music, which my friend is now trying to play, and I fall to thinking which of the...