good. Who are you, to feel righteous? What are you righteous about, in your governing? Your governing stinks. What do you govern for, but to make things there as dead and mean as they are here!”

“I don't feel righteous in the least,” he said.

“Then what do you feel? It's all such a nothingness, what you feel and what you don't feel.”

“What do you feel yourself?” he said. “Aren't you righteous in your own mind?”

“Yes, I am, because I'm against you, and all your old, dead things,” she cried.

She seemed, with the last words, uttered in hard knowledge, to strike down the flag that he kept flying. He felt cut off at the