If I can't be merry and bright, who can? Do you find me
merry and bright, Steve?"
"I've seen you in better shape," said Steve cautiously.
"I've felt in better shape."
Steve coughed. The conversation was about to become delicate.
"What's eating you, colonel?" he asked presently.
Kirk frowned in silence at the Undeniable for a few moments. Then the
pent-up misery of months exploded in a cascade of words. He jumped up
and began to walk restlessly about the studio.
"Damn it! Steve, I ought not to say a word, I know. It's weak and
cowardly and bad taste and everything else you can think of to speak of
it--even to you. One's supposed to stand this sort of roasting at the
stake with a grin, as if one enjoyed it. But, after all, you _are_
different. It's not as if it was any one. You _are_ different,
aren't you?"
"Sure."
"Well, you know what's wrong as well as I do."
"Surest thing you know. It's hit me, too."
"How's that?"
"Well, things ain't the same. That's about what it comes to."
Kirk stopped and looked at him. His expression was wistful. "I ought
not to be talking about it."
"You go right ahead, squire," said Steve soothingly. "I know just how
you feel, and I guess talking's not going to do any harm. Act as if I
wasn't here. Look on it as a monologue. I don't amount to anything.
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