Chapter 4

One day Hollanden said: “There are forty-two people at Hemlock Inn, I think. Fifteen are middle-aged ladies of the most aggressive respectability. They have come here for no discernible purpose save to get where they can see people and be displeased at them. They sit in a large group on that porch and take measurements of character as importantly as if they constituted the jury of heaven. When I arrived at Hemlock Inn I at once cast my eye searchingly about me. Perceiving this assemblage, I cried, ‘There they are!’ Barely waiting to change my clothes, I made for this formidable body and endeavoured to conciliate it. Almost every day I sit down among them and lie like a machine. Privately I believe they should be hanged, but publicly I glisten with admiration. Do you know, there is one of ‘em who I know has not moved from the inn in eight days, and this morning I said to her, ‘These long walks in the clear mountain air are doing you a world of good.’ And I keep continually saying, ‘Your frankness is so charming!’ Because of the great law of universal balance, I know that this illustrious corps will believe good of themselves with exactly the same readiness that they will believe ill of others. So I ply them with it. In consequence, the worst they ever say of me is, ‘Isn’t that Mr. Hollanden a peculiar man?’ And you know, my boy, that’s not so bad for a literary person.” After some thought he added: “Good people, too. Good wives, good mothers, and everything of that kind, you know. But conservative, very conservative. Hate anything radical. Can not endure it. Were that way themselves once, you know. They hit the mark, too, sometimes. Such general volleyings can’t fail to hit everything. May the devil fly away with them!”