He still walked eastward, wandering into
warehouse and shipping quarters skirting the river,
hitherto quite unknown to him, and pursuing in an idle,
inconsequent fashion his meditations. He established in
his mind the proposition that since an excess of enjoyment
was impossible--since one could not derive a great block
of happiness from the satisfaction of the ordinary appetites,
but at the most could only gather a little from each--the
desirable thing was to multiply as much as might be those
tastes and whims and fancies which passed for appetites,
and thus expand the area of possible gratification.
This seemed very logical indeed, but it did not apply
itself to his individual needs with much facility.
What did he want to do that he had not done? It was
difficult for him to say. Perhaps it was chandlers'
signs and windows about him, and the indefinable seafaring
preoccupation suggested by the high-walled, narrow streets,
which raised the question of a yacht in his mind.
Did he want a yacht? He could recall having once dwelt
with great fondness upon such a project: doubtless it
would still be full of attractions for him. He liked
the water, and the water liked him--and he was better able
now than formerly to understand how luxurious existence
can be made in modern private ships. He decided that he
would have a yacht--and then perceived that the decision
brought no exhilaration.
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