Time was on the wing, in ceaseless flight.
Mills broke into his reflections.
"Come up in the morning, will you, and check in what cedar I have
piled? I'm going to pull out."
"All right." Hollister looked his surprise at the abrupt decision.
"I'm sorry you're going."
Mills walked a few paces.
"Maybe it won't do me any good," he said. "I wonder if Lawanne is
right? It just struck me that he is. Anyway, I'm going to try his
recipe. Maybe I can kid myself into thinking everything's jake, that
the world's a fine sort of place and everything is always lovely. If I
could just myself think that--maybe a change of scenery will do the
trick. Lawanne's clever, isn't he? Nothing would fool him very long."
"I don't know," Hollister said. "Lawanne's a man with a pretty keen
mind and a lively imagination. He's more interested in why people do
things than in what they do. But I dare say he might fool himself as
well as the rest of us. For we all do, now and then."
"I guess it's the way a man's made," Mills reflected. "But it's rather
a new idea that a man can sort of make himself over if he puts his
mind to it.
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