Sinclair Lewis - The Collected Works of Sinclair Lewis

“Face always the day with the dawn-laugh with the enthusiasm of the initiate who perceives that all works together in the revolutions of the Wheel and who answers the strictures of the Soured Souls of the Destructionists with a Glad Affirmation — ”

It went on for about an hour and seven minutes.

At the end Mrs. Mudge spoke with more vigor and punctuation:

“Now let me suggest to all of you the advantages of the Theosophical and Pantheistic Oriental Reading Circle, which I represent. Our object is to unite all the manifestations of the New Era into one cohesive whole — New Thought, Christian Science, Theosophy, Vedanta, Bahaism, and the other sparks from the one New Light. The subscription is but ten dollars a year, and for this mere pittance the members receive not only the monthly magazine, Pearls of Healing, but the privilege of sending right to the president, our revered Mother Dobbs, any questions regarding spiritual progress, matrimonial problems, health and well-being questions, financial difficulties, and — ”

They listened to her with adoring attention. They looked genteel. They looked ironed-out. They coughed politely, and crossed their legs with quietness, and in expensive linen handkerchiefs they blew their noses with a delicacy altogether optimistic and refined.

As for Babbitt, he sat and suffered.

When they were blessedly out in the air again, when they drove home through a wind smelling of snow and honest sun, he dared not speak. They had been too near to quarreling, these days. Mrs. Babbitt forced it:

“Did you enjoy Mrs. Mudge's talk?”

“Well I — What did you get out of it?”

“Oh, it starts a person thinking. It gets you out of a routine of ordinary thoughts.”

“Well, I'll hand it to Opal she isn't ordinary, but gosh — Honest, did that stuff mean anything to you?”

“Of course I'm not trained in metaphysics, and there was lots I couldn't quite grasp, but I did feel it was inspiring. And she speaks so readily. I do think you ought to have got something out of it.”

“Well, I didn't! I swear, I was simply astonished, the way those women lapped it up! Why the dickens they want to put in their time listening to all that blaa when they — ”

“It's certainly better for them than going to roadhouses and smoking and drinking!”

“I don't know whether it is or not! Personally I don't see a whole lot of difference. In both cases they're trying to get away from themselves — most everybody is, these days, I guess. And I'd certainly get a whole lot more out of hoofing it in a good lively dance, even in some dive, than sitting looking as if my collar was too tight, and feeling too scared to spit, and listening to Opal chewing her words.”

“I'm sure you do! You're very fond of dives. No doubt you saw a lot of them while I was away!”

“Look here! You been doing a hell of a lot of insinuating and hinting around lately, as if I were leading a double life or something, and I'm damn sick of it, and I don't want to hear anything more about it!”

“Why, George Babbitt! Do you realize what you're saying? Why, George, in all our years together you've never talked to me like that!”

“It's about time then!”

“Lately you've been getting worse and worse, and now, finally, you're cursing and swearing at me and shouting at me, and your voice so ugly and hateful — I just shudder!”

“Oh, rats, quit exaggerating! I wasn't shouting, or swearing either.”

“I wish you could hear your own voice! Maybe you don't realize how it sounds. But even so — You never used to talk like that. You simply COULDN'T talk this way if something dreadful hadn't happened to you.”

His mind was hard. With amazement he found that he wasn't particularly sorry. It was only with an effort that he made himself more agreeable: “Well, gosh, I didn't mean to get sore.”

“George, do you realize that we can't go on like this, getting farther and farther apart, and you ruder and ruder to me? I just don't know what's going to happen.”

He had a moment's pity for her bewilderment; he thought of how many deep and tender things would be hurt if they really “couldn't go on like this.” But his pity was impersonal, and he was wondering, “Wouldn't it maybe be a good thing if — Not a divorce and all that, o' course, but kind of a little more independence?”

While she looked at him pleadingly he drove on in a dreadful silence.

Table of Contents

I

When he was away from her, while he kicked about the garage and swept the snow off the running-board and examined a cracked hose-connection, he repented, he was alarmed and astonished that he could have flared out at his wife, and thought fondly how much more lasting she was than the flighty Bunch. He went in to mumble that he was “sorry, didn't mean to be grouchy,” and to inquire as to her interest in movies. But in the darkness of the movie theater he brooded that he'd “gone and tied himself up to Myra all over again.” He had some satisfaction in taking it out on Tanis Judique. “Hang Tanis anyway! Why'd she gone and got him into these mix-ups and made him all jumpy and nervous and cranky? Too many complications! Cut 'em out!”

He wanted peace. For ten days he did not see Tanis nor telephone to her, and instantly she put upon him the compulsion which he hated. When he had stayed away from her for five days, hourly taking pride in his resoluteness and hourly picturing how greatly Tanis must miss him, Miss McGoun reported, “Mrs. Judique on the 'phone. Like t' speak t' you 'bout some repairs.”

Tanis was quick and quiet:

“Mr. Babbitt? Oh, George, this is Tanis. I haven't seen you for weeks — days, anyway. You aren't sick, are you?”

“No, just been terribly rushed. I, uh, I think there'll be a big revival of building this year. Got to, uh, got to work hard.”

“Of course, my man! I want you to. You know I'm terribly ambitious for you; much more than I am for myself. I just don't want you to forget poor Tanis. Will you call me up soon?”

“Sure! Sure! You bet!”

“Please do. I sha'n't call you again.”

He meditated, “Poor kid! . . . But gosh, she oughtn't to 'phone me at the office.... She's a wonder — sympathy 'ambitious for me.' . . . But gosh, I won't be made and compelled to call her up till I get ready. Darn these women, the way they make demands! It'll be one long old time before I see her! . . . But gosh, I'd like to see her to-night — sweet little thing.... Oh, cut that, son! Now you've broken away, be wise!”

She did not telephone again, nor he, but after five more days she wrote to him:

Have I offended you? You must know, dear, I didn't mean to. I'm so lonely and I need somebody to cheer me up. Why didn't you come to the nice party we had at Carrie's last evening I remember she invited you. Can't you come around here to-morrow Thur evening? I shall be alone and hope to see you.

His reflections were numerous:

“Doggone it, why can't she let me alone? Why can't women ever learn a fellow hates to be bulldozed? And they always take advantage of you by yelling how lonely they are.

“Now that isn't nice of you, young fella. She's a fine, square, straight girl, and she does get lonely. She writes a swell hand. Nice-looking stationery. Plain. Refined. I guess I'll have to go see her. Well, thank God, I got till to-morrow night free of her, anyway.

“She's nice but — Hang it, I won't be MADE to do things! I'm not married to her. No, nor by golly going to be!

“Oh, rats, I suppose I better go see her.”

II

Thursday, the to-morrow of Tanis's note, was full of emotional crises. At the Roughnecks' Table at the club, Verg Gunch talked of the Good Citizens' League and (it seemed to Babbitt) deliberately left him out of the invitations to join. Old Mat Penniman, the general utility man at Babbitt's office, had Troubles, and came in to groan about them: his oldest boy was “no good,” his wife was sick, and he had quarreled with his brother-in-law. Conrad Lyte also had Troubles, and since Lyte was one of his best clients, Babbitt had to listen to them. Mr. Lyte, it appeared, was suffering from a peculiarly interesting neuralgia, and the garage had overcharged him. When Babbitt came home, everybody had Troubles: his wife was simultaneously thinking about discharging the impudent new maid, and worried lest the maid leave; and Tinka desired to denounce her teacher.