THE CONFORMISTS
... BY ARCHIBALD SULLIVAN THERE is one thing I could never forgive, said the Poetess, adopting a dim attitude among the grey cushions, and the one thing is popularity. It would kill me, said the Poet with conviction, for it is the murderer of meter the assassin of style and I I would beat it with many rods. Hush, murmured the Poetess, I am dreaming of an opal flung by a mermaid into the ...