The vibration of the monster ship increased to a strong,electric pulsation,the water hummed along her sides,she felt the swell of the open sea.A fine rain began to fall that hid the land--yes,and the life I was leaving.I made my way across the glistening deck to the saloon where,my newspapers and periodicals neglected,I sat all the morning beside a window gazing out at the limited,vignetted zone of waters around the ship.We were headed for the Old World.The wind rose,the rain became pelting,mingling with the spume of the whitecaps racing madly past:within were warmth and luxury,electric lights,open fires,easy chairs,and men and women reading,conversing as unconcernedly as though the perils of the deep had ceased to be.In all this I found an impelling interest;the naive capacity in me for wonder,so long dormant,had been marvellously opened up once more.I no longer thought of myself as the important man of affairs;and when in the progress of the voyage I was accosted by two or three men Ihad met and by others who had heard of me it was only to feel amazement at the remoteness I now felt from a world whose realities were stocks and bonds,railroads and corporations and the detested new politics so inimical to the smooth conduct of "business."It all sounded like a language I had forgotten.
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