CHAPTER THE EIGHTH
MY UTOPIAN SELF
1
It falls to few of us to interview our better selves. My Utopian self is, of course, my better self—according to my best endeavours—and I must confess myself fully alive to the difficulties of the situation. When I came to this Utopia I had no thought of any such intimate self-examination.
The whole fabric of that other universe sways for a moment as I come into his room, into his clear and ordered work-room. I am trembling. A figure rather taller than myself stands against the light.
He comes towards me, and I, as I advance to meet him, stumble against a chair. Then, still without a word, we are clasping hands.
I stand now so that the light falls upon him, and I can see his face better. He is a little taller than I, younger looking and sounder lo
