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 7/e

Cay Horstmann

Big JavaEarly Objects

 7/e

Big Java Early Objects

Cay Horstmann
San Jose State University

bjeo_fm.indd 1 11/27/18 1:36 PM

 VICE PRESIDENT AND EXECUTIVE PUBLISHER Laurie Rosatone
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The inside back cover will contain printing identification and country of origin if omitted from this page. In
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bjeo_fm.indd 2 11/27/18 1:36 PM

 P R E FA C E

This book is an introduction to Java and computer programming that focuses on the
essentials—and on effective learning. The book is designed to serve a wide range of
student interests and abilities and is suitable for a first course in programming for
computer scientists, engineers, and students in other disciplines. No prior program-
ming experience is required, and only a modest amount of high school algebra is
needed.
Here are the key features of this book:
Start objects early, teach object orientation gradually.
In Chapter 2, students learn how to use objects and classes from the standard library.
Chapter 3 shows the mechanics of implementing classes from a given specification.
Students then use simple objects as they master branches, loops, and arrays. Object-
oriented design starts in Chapter 8. This gradual approach allows students to use
objects throughout their study of the core algorithmic topics, without teaching bad
habits that must be un-learned later.
Guidance and worked examples help students succeed.
Beginning programmers often ask “How do I start? Now what do I do?” Of course,
an activity as complex as programming cannot be reduced to cookbook-style instruc-
tions. However, step-by-step guidance is immensely helpful for building confidence
and providing an outline for the task at hand. “How To” guides help students with
common programming tasks. Numerous Worked Examples demonstrate how to
apply chapter concepts to interesting problems.
Problem solving strategies are made explicit.
Practical, step-by-step illustrations of techniques help students devise and evaluate
solutions to programming problems. Introduced where they are most relevant, these
strategies address barriers to success for many students. Strategies included are:
• Algorithm Design (with pseudocode) • Solve a Simpler Problem First
• Tracing Objects • Adapting Algorithms
• First Do It By Hand (doing sample • Discovering Algorithms by
calculations by hand) Manipulating Physical Objects
• Flowcharts • Patterns for Object Data
• Selecting Test Cases • Thinking Recursively
• Hand-Tracing • Estimating the Running Time of
• Storyboards an Algorithm

Practice makes perfect.

Of course, programming students need to be able to implement nontrivial programs,
but they first need to have the confidence that they can succeed. Each section con-
tains numerous exercises that ask students to carry out progressively more complex
tasks: trace code and understand its effects, produce program snippets from prepared
parts, and complete simple programs. Additional review and programming problems
are provided at the end of each chapter.

iii

bjeo_fm.indd 3 11/27/18 1:36 PM

 iv Preface

A visual approach motivates the reader and eases navigation.

Photographs present visual analogies that explain the
nature and behavior of computer concepts. Step-by-

© Terraxplorer/iStockphoto.
step figures illustrate complex program operations.
Syntax boxes and example tables present a variety
of typical and special cases in a compact format. It
is easy to get the “lay of the land” by browsing the
visuals, before focusing on the textual material.
Focus on the essentials while being
technically accurate. Visual features help the reader
An encyclopedic coverage is not helpful for a begin- with navigation.
ning programmer, but neither is the opposite—
reducing the material to a list of simplistic bullet points. In this book, the essentials are
presented in digestible chunks, with separate notes that go deeper into good practices
or language features when the reader is ready for the additional information. You will
© Terraxplorer/iStockphoto.
not find artificial over-simplifications that give an illusion of knowledge.
Reinforce sound engineering practices.
A multitude of useful tips on software quality and common errors encourage the
development of good programming habits. The optional testing track focuses on
test-driven development, encouraging students to test their programs systematically.
Provide an optional graphics track.
Graphical shapes are splendid examples of objects. Many students enjoy writing pro-
grams that create drawings or use graphical user interfaces. If desired, these topics can
be integrated into the course by using the materials at the end of Chapters 2, 3, and 10.
Engage with optional science and business exercises.
End-of-chapter exercises are enhanced with problems from scientific and business
domains. Designed to engage students, the exercises illustrate the value of program-
ming in applied fields.

New to This Edition

Adapted to Java Versions 8 Through 11
This edition takes advantage of modern Java features when they are pedagogically
sensible. I continue to use “pure” interfaces with only abstract methods. Default,
static, and private interface methods are introduced in a Special Topic. Lambda
expressions are optional for user interface callback, but they are used in the chapter
on the stream library and its applications for “big data” processing.
The “diamond” syntax for generic classes is introduced as a Special Topic in Chap-
ter 7 and used systematically starting with Chapter 15. Local type inference with the
var keyword is described in a Special Topic.
Useful features such as the try-with-resources statement are integrated into the
text. Chapter 21 covers the utilities provided by the Paths and Files classes.

Interactive Learning
With this edition, interactive content is front and center. Immersive activities integrate
with this text and engage students in activities designed to foster in-depth learning.

bjeo_fm.indd 4 11/27/18 1:36 PM

 Preface v

Students don’t just watch animations and code traces, they work on generating
them. Live code samples invite the reader to experiment and to learn programming
constructs first hand. The activities provide instant feedback to show students what
they did right and where they need to study more.

A Tour of the Book

The book can be naturally grouped into four parts, as illustrated by Figure 1 on
page vi. The organization of chapters offers the same flexibility as the previous
edition; dependencies among the chapters are also shown in the figure.

Part A: Fundamentals (Chapters 1–7)

Chapter 1 contains a brief introduction to computer science and Java programming.
Chapter 2 shows how to manipulate objects of predefined classes. In Chapter 3,
you will build your own simple classes from given specifications. Fundamental data
types, branches, loops, and arrays are covered in Chapters 4–7.

Part B: Object-Oriented Design (Chapters 8–12)

Chapter 8 takes up the subject of class design in a systematic fashion, and it intro-
duces a very simple subset of the UML notation. Chapter 9 covers inheritance and
polymorphism, whereas Chapter 10 covers interfaces. Exception handling and basic
file input/output are covered in Chapter 11. The exception hierarchy gives a useful
example for inheritance. Chapter 12 contains an introduction to object-oriented
design, including two significant case studies.

Part C: Data Structures and Algorithms (Chapters 13–19)

Chapters 13 through 19 contain an introduction to algorithms and data structures,
covering recursion, sorting and searching, linked lists, binary trees, and hash tables.
These topics may be outside the scope of a one-semester course, but can be covered
as desired after Chapter 7 (see Figure 1). Recursion, in Chapter 13, starts with simple
examples and progresses to meaningful applications that would be difficult to imple-
ment iteratively. Chapter 14 covers quadratic sorting algorithms as well as merge sort,
with an informal introduction to big-Oh notation. Each data structure is presented
in the context of the standard Java collections library. You will learn the essential
abstractions of the standard library (such as iterators, sets, and maps) as well as the
performance characteristics of the various collections. Chapter 18 introduces Java
generics. This chapter is suitable for advanced students who want to implement their
own generic classes and methods. Finally, Chapter 19 introduces the Java 8 streams
library and shows how it can be used to analyze complex real-world data.

Part D: Applied Topics (Chapters 20–25)

Chapters 20 through 25 cover Java programming techniques that definitely go
beyond a first course in Java (21–25 are in the eText). Although, as already mentioned,
a comprehensive coverage of the Java library would span many volumes, many
instructors prefer that a textbook should give students additional reference material
valuable beyond their first course. Some institutions also teach a second-semester
course that covers more practical programming aspects such as database and network

bjeo_fm.indd 5 11/27/18 1:36 PM

 vi Preface

programming, rather than the more traditional in-depth material on data structures
and algorithms. This book can be used in a two-semester course to give students an
introduction to programming fundamentals and broad coverage of applications.
Alternatively, the material in the final chapters can be useful for student projects. The
applied topics include graphical user-interface design, advanced file handling, multi-
threading, and those technologies that are of particular interest to server-side pro-
gramming: networking, databases, and XML. The Internet has made it possible to

1. Introduction

Fundamentals
2. Using Objects
Object-Oriented Design
Data Structures & Algorithms
Applied Topics
e eText Chapters
3. Implementing
Classes

4. Fundamental
Data Types

5. Decisions

6. Loops

Sections 11.1 and 11.2

(text file processing) can be 7. Arrays
covered with Chapter 6. 6. Iteration
and Array Lists

11. Input/Output 8. Designing

13. Recursion
and Exception Classes
Handling

21. Advanced 23. Internet 24. Relational 15. The Java 14. Sorting
9. Inheritance
e e e
Input/Output Networking Databases Collections and Searching
Framework

19. Stream
22. Processing
20. Graphical
25. XML 10. Interfaces
e e
User Interfaces Multithreading

16. Basic
12. Object- Data Structures
Oriented Design

Figure 1
Chapter 18. Generic 17. Tree
Classes Structures
Dependencies

bjeo_fm.indd 6 11/27/18 1:36 PM

 Preface vii

deploy many useful applications on servers, often accessed by nothing more than a
browser. This server-centric approach to application development was in part made
possible by the Java language and libraries, and today, much of the industrial use of
Java is in server-side programming.

Appendices
Many instructors find it highly beneficial to require a consistent style for all assign-
ments. If the style guide in Appendix E conflicts with instructor sentiment or local
customs, however, it is available in electronic form so that it can be modified. Appen-
dices F–J are available in the eText.
A. The Basic Latin and Latin-1 F. Tool Summary
Subsets of Unicode G. Number Systems
B. Java Operator Summary H. UML Summary
C. Java Reserved Word Summary I. Java Syntax Summary
D. The Java Library J. HTML Summary
E. Java Language Coding Guidelines

Interactive eText Designed for Programming Students

Available online through wiley.com, vitalsource.com, or at your local bookstore, the
enhanced eText features integrated student coding activities that foster in-depth
learning. Designed by Cay Horstmann, these activities provide instant feedback to
show students what they did right and where they need to study more. Students do
more than just watch animations and code traces; they work on generating them right
in the eText environment. For a preview of these activities, check out http://wiley.
com/college/sc/horstmann.
Customized formats are also available in both print and digital formats and pro-
vide your students with curated content based on your unique syllabus.
Please contact your Wiley sales rep for more information about any of these
options.

Web Resources
This book is complemented by a complete suite of online resources. Go to www.wiley.
com/go/bjeo7 to visit the online companion sites, which include

• Source code for all example programs in the book and its Worked Examples, plus
additional example programs.
• Worked Examples that apply the problem-solving steps in the book to other
realistic examples.
• Lecture presentation slides (for instructors only).
• Solutions to all review and programming exercises (for instructors only).
• A test bank that focuses on skills, not just terminology (for instructors only). This
extensive set of multiple-choice questions can be used with a word processor or
imported into a course management system.
• CodeCheck®, an innovative online service that allows instructors to design their
own automatically graded programming exercises.

bjeo_fm.indd 7 11/27/18 1:36 PM

 viii Walkthrough

Walkthrough of the Learning Aids

The pedagogical elements in this book work together to focus on and reinforce key
concepts and fundamental principles of programming, with additional tips and detail
organized to support and deepen these fundamentals. In addition to traditional
features, such as chapter objectives and a wealth of exercises, each chapter contains
elements geared to today’s visual learner.

6.3 The for Loop 183

6.3 The for Loop

Throughout each chapter,
margin notes show where The for loop is used
when a value runs
It often happens that you want to execute a sequence of statements a given number of
times. You can use a while loop that is controlled by a counter, as in the following
new concepts are introduced from a starting point
to an ending point
example:
with a constant int counter = 5; // Initialize the counter
and provide an outline of key ideas. increment or while (counter <= 10) // Check the counter
decrement. {
sum = sum + counter;
counter++; // Update the counter
}

Because this loop type is so common, there is a spe-

cial form for it, called the for loop (see Syntax 6.2).
for (int counter = 5; counter <= 10; counter++)
{
sum = sum + counter;
}

Some people call this loop count-controlled. In con-

trast, the while loop of the preceding section can
be called an event-controlled loop because it exe-
cutes until an event occurs; namely that the balance
reaches the target. Another commonly used term for
a count-controlled loop is definite. You know from
the outset that the loop body will be executed a defi-
nite number of times; ten times in our example. In
© Enrico Fianchini/iStockphoto.
contrast, you do not know how many iterations it
takes to accumulate a target balance. Such a loop is You can visualize the for loop as
Annotated syntax boxes called indefinite. an orderly sequence of steps.

provide a quick, visual overview

of new language constructs. Syntax 6.2 for Statement

Syntax for (initialization; condition; update)

{
statements
}
These three
expressions should be related.
See Programming Tip 6.1.

Annotations explain required This initialization The condition is This update is

components and point to more happens once
before the loop starts.
checked before
each iteration.
executed after
each iteration.
information on common errors
for (int i = 5; i <= 10; i++)
or best practices associated The variable i is
{
sum = sum + i; This loop executes 6 times.
with the syntax. defined only in this for loop.
See Special Topic 6.1.
} See Programming Tip 6.3.

Analogies to everyday objects are

used to explain the nature and behavior
of concepts such as variables, data
Like a variable in a computer types, loops, and more.
program, a parking space has
an identifier and a contents.

bjeo_fm.indd 8 11/27/18 1:36 PM

 Walkthrough ix

Memorable photos reinforce

analogies and help students
remember the concepts.

In the same way that there can be a street named “Main Street” in different cities,
a Java program can have multiple variables with the same name.

Problem Solving sections teach

techniques for generating ideas and 7.5 Problem Solving: Discovering Algorithms by Manipulating Physical Objects 333

evaluating proposed solutions, often Now how does that help us with our problem, switching the first and the second
using pencil and paper or other half of the array?
Let’s put the first coin into place, by swapping it with the fifth coin. However, as
artifacts. These sections emphasize Java programmers, we will say that we swap the coins in positions 0 and 4:

that most of the planning and problem

solving that makes students successful
happens away from the computer.

Next, we swap the coins in positions 1 and 5:

HOW TO 6.1 How To guides give step-by-step

Writing a Loop
guidance for common programming
This How To walks you through the process of
implementing a loop statement. We will illustrate the tasks, emphasizing planning and
steps with the following example problem.
Problem Statement Read twelve temperature
testing. They answer the beginner’s
values (one for each month) and display the num-
ber of the month with the highest temperature. For
question, “Now what do I do?” and
example, according to http://worldclimate.com, the
average maximum temperatures for Death Valley are
integrate key concepts into a
(in order by month, in degrees Celsius):
problem-solving sequence.
18.2 22.6 26.4 31.1 36.6 42.2
45.7 44.5 40.2 33.1 24.2 17.6
In this case, the month with the highest tempera-
ture (45.7 degrees Celsius) is July, and the program
should display 7. © Stevegeer/iStockphoto.

Step 1 Decide what work must be done inside the loop. Worked Examples apply
Every loop needs to do some kind of repetitive work, such as
• Reading another item. the steps in the How To to a
• Updating a value (such as a bank balance or total).
WORKED EXAMPLE 6.1 different example, showing
• Incrementing a counter.
Credit Card Processing
If you can’t figure out what needs to go inside the loop, start by writing down the steps that how they can be used to
you would take if you
howsolved
to use the problem by hand. Forfrom
example, with the temperature reading
problem, you
Learn
might See
number. write
a loop to remove spaces a credit
your eText or visit wiley.com/go/bjeo7.
card
plan, implement, and test
© MorePixels/iStockphoto. a solution to another
programming problem.
Table 1 Variable Declarations in Java
Variable Name Comment

int width = 20; Declares an integer variable and initializes it with 20.

int perimeter = 4 * width; The initial value need not be a fixed value. (Of course, width
must have been previously declared.)

String greeting = "Hi!"; This variable has the type String and is initialized with the
Example tables support beginners
string “Hi”. with multiple, concrete examples.
height = 30; Error: The type is missing. This statement is not a declaration
but an assignment of a new value to an existing variable—see These tables point out common
Section 2.2.5.
errors and present another quick
int width = "20"; Error: You cannot initialize a number with the string “20”.
(Note the quotation marks.) reference to the section’s topic.
int width; Declares an integer variable without initializing it. This can be a
cause for errors—see Common Error 2.1.
int width, height; Declares two integer variables in a single statement. In this
book, we will declare each variable in a separate statement.

bjeo_fm.indd 9 11/27/18 1:37 PM

 x Walkthrough

Figure 3
Progressive figures trace code Execution of a
1 Initialize counter
for (int counter = 5; counter <= 10; counter++)
{
for Loop
segments to help students visualize counter = 5 }
sum = sum + counter;

the program flow. Color is used

consistently to make variables and
2 Check condition
for (int counter = 5; counter <= 10; counter++)
{

other elements easily recognizable. counter = 5 }

sum = sum + counter;

3 Execute loop body

for (int counter = 5; counter <= 10; counter++)
{
sum = sum + counter;
counter = 5 }

4 Update counter
for (int counter = 5; counter <= 10; counter++)
{
sum = sum + counter;
counter = 6 }
sec01/ElevatorSimulation.java
1 import java.util.Scanner; 5 Check condition again
for (int counter = 5; counter <= 10; counter++)
2 {
3 /** sum = sum + counter;
4 This program simulates an elevator panel that skips the 13th floor. counter = 6 }
5 */
6 public class ElevatorSimulation
7 {
8 public static void main(String[] args)
9 { The for loop neatly groups the initialization, condition, and update expressions
10 Scanner in = new Scanner(System.in); together. However, it is important to realize that these expressions are not executed
11 System.out.print("Floor: ");
together (see Figure 3).
12 int floor = in.nextInt();
13
• The initialization is executed once, before the loop is entered. 1
14 // Adjust floor if necessary
15 • The condition is checked before each iteration. 2 5
16 int actualFloor;
17 if (floor > 13) • The update is executed after each iteration. 4

Program listings are carefully

designed for easy reading, going
well beyond simple color coding.
Students can run and change the
same programs right in the eText.

Self-check exercises in the

eText are designed to engage
students with the new material
and check understanding before
they continue to the next topic.

•• Business E6.17 Currency conversion. Write a program

that first asks the user to type today’s
price for one dollar in Japanese yen,
then reads U.S. dollar values and
converts each to yen. Use 0 as a sentinel.

Optional science and business • Science P6.15 Radioactive decay of radioactive materials can be
modeled by the equation A = A0e-t (log 2/h), where A is
exercises engage students with the amount of the material at time t, A0 is the amount
realistic applications of Java. at time 0, and h is the half-life.
Technetium-99 is a radioisotope that is used in imaging
of the brain. It has a half-life of 6 hours. Your program
should display the relative amount A / A0 in a patient
body every hour for 24 hours after receiving a dose.

bjeo_fm.indd 10 11/27/18 1:37 PM

 Walkthrough xi

Common Errors describe the kinds Common Error 7.4

of errors that students often make, Length and Size

Unfortunately, the Java syntax for determining the number of elements in an array, an array
with an explanation of why the errors list, and a string is not at all consistent. It is a common error to confuse these. You just have to
remember the correct syntax for every data type.
occur, and what to do about them.
Data Type Number of Elements

Array a.length

Array list a.size()

String a.length()

Programming Tip 5.5

Hand-Tracing
A very useful technique for understanding whether a program
works correctly is called hand-tracing. You simulate the pro-
gram’s activity on a sheet of paper. You can use this method with
pseudocode or Java code.
Get an index card, a cocktail napkin, or whatever sheet of
Programming Tips explain paper is within reach. Make a column for each variable. Have the
program code ready. Use a marker, such as a paper clip, to mark
good programming practices, the current statement. In your mind, execute statements one at a
time. Every time the value of a variable changes, cross out the old
and encourage students to be value and write the new value below the old one.
For example, let’s trace the getTax method with the data from © thomasd007/iStockphoto.

more productive with tips and the program run above. When the TaxReturn object is constructed,
the income instance variable is set to 80,000 and status is set to
Hand-tracing helps you
understand whether a
techniques such as hand-tracing. MARRIED. Then the getTax method is called. In lines 31 and 32 of Tax-
Return.java, tax1 and tax2 are initialized to 0.
program works correctly.

29 public double getTax()

30 {
31 double tax1 = 0; income status tax1 tax2
32 double tax2 = 0;
33 80000 MARRIED 0 0
Because status is not SINGLE, we move to the else
branch of the outer if statement (line 46).
34 if (status == SINGLE)
35 {
36 if (income <= RATE1_SINGLE_LIMIT)
37 {
38 tax1 = RATE1 * income;
39 }
40 else
41 {
42 tax1 = RATE1 * RATE1_SINGLE_LIMIT;
43 tax2 = RATE2 * (income - RATE1_SINGLE_LIMIT);

Special Topic 11.2

File Dialog Boxes

Special Topics present optional In a program with a graphical user interface, you will want to use a file dialog box (such as the
one shown in the figure below) whenever the users of your program need to pick a file. The
topics and provide additional JFileChooser class implements a file dialog box for the Swing user-interface toolkit.
The JFileChooser class has many options to fine-tune the display of the dialog box, but in its
explanation of others. most basic form it is quite simple: Construct a file chooser object; then call the showOpenDialog
or showSaveDialog method. Both methods show the same dialog box, but the button for select-
ing a file is labeled “Open” or “Save”, depending on which method you call.
For better placement of the dialog box on the screen, you can specify the user-interface
component over which to pop up the dialog box. If you don’t care where the dialog box pops
up, you can simply pass null. The showOpenDialog and showSaveDialog methods return either
JFileChooser.APPROVE_OPTION, if the user has chosen a file, or JFileChooser.CANCEL_OPTION, if the
user canceled the selection. If a file was chosen, then you call the getSelectedFile method to
obtain a File object that describes the file.
Here is a complete example:
JFileChooser chooser = new JFileChooser();
Scanner in = null;
if (chooser.showOpenDialog(null) == JFileChooser.APPROVE_OPTION)
{

Additional full code examples

File selectedFile = chooser.getSelectedFile();
in = new Scanner(selectedFile);

throughout the text provide }

complete programs for students EXAMPLE CODE See special_topic_2 of your eText or companion code for a program that demonstrates how to use a file
chooser.

to run and modify.

Computing & Society 1.1 Computers Are Everywhere

When computers The advent of ubiqui-
were first invented tous computing changed
in the 1940s, a computer filled an many aspects of our
entire room. The photo below shows lives. Factories used
the ENIAC (electronic numerical inte- to employ people to
grator and computer), completed in do repetitive assembly
1946 at the University of Pennsylvania. tasks that are today car-
The ENIAC was used by the military ried out by computer-

Computing & Society presents social

to compute the trajectories of projec- controlled robots, oper-
tiles. Nowadays, computing facilities ated by a few people
of search engines, Internet shops, and who know how to work
and historical topics on computing—for social networks fill huge buildings
called data centers. At the other end of
with those computers.
Books, music, and mov-
interest and to fulfill the “historical and the spectrum, computers are all around
us. Your cell phone has a computer
ies are nowadays often
consumed on com- This transit card contains a computer.
social context” requirements of the inside, as do many credit cards and fare
cards for public transit. A modern car
puters, and comput-
ers are almost always

ACM/IEEE curriculum guidelines. has several computers––to control the

engine, brakes, lights, and the radio.
involved in their production. The
book that you are reading right now
could not have been written without
computers.

bjeo_fm.indd 11 11/27/18 1:37 PM

 xii Walkthrough

Interactive activities in the eText

engage students in active reading as they… Complete a program and
get immediate feedback

Trace through a code segment

Arrange code to fulfill a task

Build an example table

Create a memory diagram

Explore common algorithms

bjeo_fm.indd 12 11/27/18 2:30 PM

 Acknowledgments xiii

Acknowledgments
Many thanks to Joanna Dingle, Crystal Franks, Graig Donini, and Michael Mac-
Dougald at John Wiley & Sons, and Vickie Piercey at Publishing Services for their
help with this project. An especially deep acknowledgment and thanks goes to Cindy
Johnson for her hard work, sound judgment, and amazing attention to detail.
Special thanks to Stephen Gilbert, Orange Coast College, for his excellent help
with the interactive exercises.
Many thanks to the individuals who worked through the many new activities in
this edition, reviewed the manuscript, made valuable suggestions, and brought errors
and omissions to my attention. They include:
Radhouane Chouchane, Columbus State University
Sussan Einakian, California Polytechnic State University
Jon Hanrath, Illinois Institute of Technology
Brian King, Bucknell University
Kathleen O’Brien, San Jose State University
Eman Saleh, University of Georgia
William Wei, New York Institute of Technology
Each new edition builds on the suggestions and experiences of prior reviewers, con-
tributors, and users. I am grateful for the invaluable contributions these individuals
have made:
Eric Aaron, Wesleyan University Jerry Cain, Stanford University Geoffrey Decker, Northern Illinois
James Agnew, Anne Arundel Adam Cannon, Columbia University
Community College University Suzanne Dietrich, Arizona State
Tim Andersen, Boise State Michael Carney, Finger Lakes University,West Campus
University Community College Mike Domaratzki, University of
Ivan Bajic, San Diego State Robin Carr, Drexel University Manitoba
University Christopher Cassa, Massachusetts H. E. Dunsmore, Purdue University
Greg Ballinger, Miami Dade College Institute of Technology Robert Duvall, Duke University
Ted Bangay, Sheridan Institute Nancy Chase, Gonzaga University Sherif Elfayoumy, University of
of Technology Dr. Suchindran S. Chatterjee, North Florida
Ian Barland, Radford University Arizona State University Eman El-Sheikh, University of
George Basham, Franklin University Archana Chidanandan, Rose- West Florida
Jon Beck, Truman State University Hulman Institute of Technology Henry A. Etlinger, Rochester
Sambit Bhattacharya, Fayetteville Vincent Cicirello, The Richard Institute of Technology
State University Stockton College of New Jersey John Fendrich, Bradley University
Rick Birney, Arizona State Gerald Cohen, The Richard Stockton David Freer, Miami Dade College
University College of New Jersey John Fulton, Franklin University
Paul Bladek, Edmonds Community Teresa Cole, Boise State University David Geary, Sabreware, Inc.
College Deborah Coleman, Rochester Margaret Geroch, Wheeling Jesuit
Matt Boutell, Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology University
Institute of Technology Tina Comston, Franklin University Ahmad Ghafarian, North Georgia
Joseph Bowbeer, Vizrea Corporation Lennie Cooper, Miami Dade College College & State University
Timothy A. Budd, Oregon State Jose Cordova, University of Rick Giles, Acadia University
University Louisiana, Monroe Stacey Grasso, College of San Mateo
John Bundy, DeVry University Valentino Crespi, California State Jianchao Han, California State
Chicago University, Los Angeles University, Dominguez Hills
Robert P. Burton, Brigham Young Jim Cross, Auburn University Lisa Hansen, Western New England
University Russell Deaton, University College
Frank Butt, IBM of Arkansas Elliotte Harold

bjeo_fm.indd 13 11/27/18 1:37 PM

 xiv Acknowledgments

Eileen Head, Binghamton Teng Moh, San Jose State University Jeffrey Six, University of Delaware
University Bill Mongan, Drexel University Don Slater, Carnegie Mellon
Cecily Heiner, University of Utah John Moore, The Citadel University
Guy Helmer, Iowa State University Jose-Arturo Mora-Soto, Jesica Ken Slonneger, University of Iowa
Ed Holden, Rochester Institute Rivero-Espinosa, and Julio-Angel Aurelia Smith, Columbus State
of Technology Cano-Romero, University University
Brian Howard, Depauw University of Madrid Donald Smith, Columbia College
Lubomir Ivanov, Iona College Faye Navabi, Arizona State Joslyn A. Smith, Florida
Norman Jacobson, University of University International University
California, Irvine Parviz Partow-Navid, California Stephanie Smullen, University of
Steven Janke, Colorado College State University, Los Angeles Tennessee, Chattanooga
Curt Jones, Bloomsburg University George Novacky, University Robert Strader, Stephen F. Austin
Mark Jones, Lock Haven University of Pittsburgh State University
of Pennsylvania Kevin O’Gorman, California Monica Sweat, Georgia Institute
Dr. Mustafa Kamal, University of Polytechnic State University, San of Technology
Central Missouri Luis Obispo Peter Stanchev, Kettering University
Aaron Keen, California Polytechnic Michael Olan, Richard Stockton Aakash Taneja, The Richard
State University, San Luis Obispo College Stockton College of New Jersey
Mugdha Khaladkar, New Jersey Mimi Opkins, California State Craig Tanis, University of Tennessee
Institute of Technology University Long Beach at Chattanooga
Gary J. Koehler, University of Derek Pao, City University of Shannon Tauro, University of
Florida Hong Kong California, Irvine
Elliot Koffman, Temple University Kevin Parker, Idaho State University Ron Taylor, Wright State University
Ronald Krawitz, DeVry University Jim Perry, Ulster County Russell Tessier, University of
Norm Krumpe, Miami University Community College Massachusetts, Amherst
Ohio Cornel Pokorny, California Jonathan L. Tolstedt, North Dakota
Jim Leone, Rochester Institute Polytechnic State University, State University
of Technology San Luis Obispo David Vineyard, Kettering
Kevin Lillis, St. Ambrose University Roger Priebe, University of Texas, University
Austin Joseph Vybihal, McGill University
Darren Lim, Siena College
C. Robert Putnam, California State Xiaoming Wei, Iona College
Hong Lin, DeVry University
University, Northridge Jonathan S. Weissman, Finger Lakes
Kathy Liszka, University of Akron
Kai Qian, Southern Polytechnic Community College
Hunter Lloyd, Montana State State University
University Todd Whittaker, Franklin University
Cyndi Rader, Colorado School Robert Willhoft, Roberts Wesleyan
Youmin Lu, Bloomsburg University of Mines
Peter Lutz, Rochester Institute of College
Neil Rankin, Worcester Polytechnic Brent Wilson, George Fox University
Technology Institute
Kuber Maharjan, Purdue University Katherine Winters, University of
Brad Rippe, Fullerton College Tennessee at Chattanooga
College of Technology at
Pedro I. Rivera Vega, University Lea Wittie, Bucknell University
Columbus
of Puerto Rico, Mayaguez
John S. Mallozzi, Iona College David Womack, University of Texas
Daniel Rogers, SUNY Brockport at San Antonio
John Martin, North Dakota State
Chaman Lal Sabharwal, Missouri David Woolbright, Columbus State
University
University of Science and University
Jeanna Matthews, Clarkson Technology
University Tom Wulf, University of Cincinnati
Katherine Salch, Illinois Central
Patricia McDermott-Wells, Florida Catherine Wyman, DeVry
College
International University University
John Santore, Bridgewater State
Scott McElfresh, Carnegie Mellon Arthur Yanushka, Christian Brothers
College
University University
Javad Shakib, DeVry University
Joan McGrory, Christian Brothers Qi Yu, Rochester Institute of
Carolyn Schauble, Colorado State Technology
University
University
Carolyn Miller, North Carolina Salih Yurttas, Texas A&M University
Brent Seales, University of Kentucky
State University
Christian Shin, SUNY Geneseo
Sandeep R. Mitra, State University
of New York, Brockport Charlie Shu, Franklin University

bjeo_fm.indd 14 11/27/18 1:37 PM

 CONTENTS

PREFACE iii 2.4 Constructing Objects 38

SPECIAL FEATURES xxiv 2.5 Accessor and Mutator Methods 40
2.6 The API Documentation 41
1 INTRODUCTION 1 Browsing the API Documentation 41
Packages 43
1.1 Computer Programs 2 2.7 Implementing a Test Program 44
1.2 The Anatomy of a Computer 3 ST2 Testing Classes in an Interactive
1.3 The Java Programming Language 5 Environment 45
WE1 How Many Days Have You Been Alive? 46
1.4 Becoming Familiar with Your
WE2 Working with Pictures 46
Programming Environment 7
2.8 Object References 46
1.5 Analyzing Your First Program 11
2.9 Graphical Applications 49
1.6 Errors 13
Frame Windows 50
1.7 PROBLEM SOLVING Algorithm Design 15 Drawing on a Component 51
The Algorithm Concept 15 Displaying a Component in a Frame 53
An Algorithm for Solving an
Investment Problem 16
2.10 Ellipses, Lines, Text, and Color 54
Pseudocode 17 Ellipses and Circles 54
From Algorithms to Programs 18 Lines 55
HT1 Describing an Algorithm with Drawing Text 56
Pseudocode 18 Colors 56
WE1 Writing an Algorithm for Tiling a Floor 20
3 IMPLEMENTING CLASSES 61
2 USING OBJECTS 23
3.1 Instance Variables and Encapsulation 62
2.1 Objects and Classes 24 Instance Variables 62
Using Objects 24 The Methods of the Counter Class 64
Classes 25 Encapsulation 64

2.2 Variables 26 3.2 Specifying the Public Interface

Variable Declarations 26
of a Class 66
Types 28 Specifying Methods 66
Names 29 Specifying Constructors 67
Comments 30 Using the Public Interface 69
Assignment 30 Commenting the Public Interface 69
ST1 Variable Type Inference 33 3.3 Providing the Class Implementation 72
2.3 Calling Methods 33 Providing Instance Variables 72
The Public Interface of a Class 33 Providing Constructors 73
Method Arguments 34 Providing Methods 75
Return Values 35 HT1 Implementing a Class 78
Method Declarations 36 WE1 Making a Simple Menu 81

xv

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 xvi Contents

3.4 Unit Testing 81 5 DECISIONS 131

3.5 PROBLEM SOLVING Tracing Objects 84
5.1 The if Statement 132
3.6 Local Variables 86
ST1 The Conditional Operator 137
3.7 The this Reference 88
5.2 Comparing Values 137
ST1 Calling One Constructor from Another 90
Relational Operators 138
3.8 Shape Classes 90 Comparing Floating-Point Numbers 139
HT2 Drawing Graphical Shapes 94 Comparing Strings 140
Comparing Objects 141
Testing for null 141
4 FUNDAMENTAL DATA
HT1 Implementing an if Statement 143
TYPES 99
WE1 Extracting the Middle 146
4.1 Numbers 100 5.3 Multiple Alternatives 146
Number Types 100 ST2 The switch Statement 148
Constants 102 5.4 Nested Branches 149
ST1 Big Numbers 106 ST3 Block Scope 154
4.2 Arithmetic 107 ST4 Enumeration Types 155
Arithmetic Operators 107 5.5 PROBLEM SOLVING Flowcharts 156
Increment and Decrement 107
5.6 PROBLEM SOLVING Selecting Test
Integer Division and Remainder 108
Powers and Roots 109 Cases 159
Converting Floating-Point Numbers ST5 Logging 161
to Integers 110 5.7 Boolean Variables and Operators 161
ST2 Avoiding Negative Remainders 112 ST6 Short-Circuit Evaluation of Boolean
ST3 Combining Assignment and Arithmetic 113 Operators 165
ST4 Instance Methods and Static Methods 113 ST7 De Morgan’s Law 165
4.3 Input and Output 114 5.8 APPLICATION Input Validation 166
Reading Input 114
Formatted Output 115
6 LOOPS 171
HT1 Carrying Out Computations 118
WE1 Computing the Volume and Surface Area of 6.1 The while Loop 172
a Pyramid 121
6.2 PROBLEM SOLVING Hand-Tracing 179
4.4 PROBLEM SOLVING First Do it By Hand 121
6.3 The for Loop 183
WE2 Computing Travel Time 122
ST1 Variables Declared in a for Loop
4.5 Strings 122 Header 189
The String Type 122 6.4 The do Loop 190
Concatenation 123
String Input 124 6.5 APPLICATION Processing Sentinel
Escape Sequences 124 Values 192
Strings and Characters 124 ST2 Redirection of Input and Output 194
Substrings 125 ST3 The “Loop and a Half” Problem 194
ST5 Using Dialog Boxes for Input and ST4 The break and continue Statements 195
Output 128 6.6 PROBLEM SOLVING Storyboards 197
6.7 Common Loop Algorithms 199
Sum and Average Value 199
Counting Matches 200

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 Contents xvii

Finding the First Match 200 7.6 Two-Dimensional Arrays 248

Prompting Until a Match is Found 201 Declaring Two-Dimensional Arrays 248
Maximum and Minimum 201 Accessing Elements 249
Comparing Adjacent Values 202 Locating Neighboring Elements 250
HT1 Writing a Loop 203 Accessing Rows and Columns 251
WE1 Credit Card Processing 206 Two-Dimensional Array Parameters 252
6.8 Nested Loops 206 WE2 A World Population Table 253
WE2 Manipulating the Pixels in an Image 209 ST3 Two-Dimensional Arrays with Variable
Row Lengths 254
6.9 APPLICATION Random Numbers and
ST4 Multidimensional Arrays 255
Simulations 209
7.7 Array Lists 255
Generating Random Numbers 210
The Monte Carlo Method 211 Declaring and Using Array Lists 255
Using the Enhanced for Loop with
6.10 Using a Debugger 213 Array Lists 258
HT2 Debugging 215 Copying Array Lists 259
WE3 A Sample Debugging Session 217 Wrappers and Auto-boxing 259
Using Array Algorithms with Array Lists 260
Storing Input Values in an Array List 261
7 ARRAYS AND ARRAY Removing Matches 261
LISTS 221 Choosing Between Array Lists and Arrays 262
ST5 The Diamond Syntax 264
7.1 Arrays 222
Declaring and Using Arrays 222 7.8 Regression Testing 264
Array References 225
Using Arrays with Methods 226
8 DESIGNING CLASSES 271
Partially Filled Arrays 226
ST1 Methods with a Variable Number of 8.1 Discovering Classes 272
Arguments 229
8.2 Designing Good Methods 273
7.2 The Enhanced for Loop 230
Providing a Cohesive Public Interface 273
7.3 Common Array Algorithms 232 Minimizing Dependencies 274
Filling 232 Separating Accessors and Mutators 275
Sum and Average Value 232 Minimizing Side Effects 276
Maximum and Minimum 232 ST1 Call by Value and Call by Reference 278
Element Separators 232 8.3 PROBLEM SOLVING Patterns for
Linear Search 233
Object Data 282
Removing an Element 234
Keeping a Total 282
Inserting an Element 234
Counting Events 283
Swapping Elements 236
Collecting Values 283
Copying Arrays 237
Managing Properties of an Object 284
Reading Input 238
Modeling Objects with Distinct States 284
ST2 Sorting with the Java Library 240
Describing the Position of an Object 285
7.4 PROBLEM SOLVING Adapting
8.4 Static Variables and Methods 286
Algorithms 240
ST2 Alternative Forms of Instance and Static
HT1 Working with Arrays 242 Variable Initialization 289
WE1 Rolling the Dice 245 ST3 Static Imports 290
7.5 PROBLEM SOLVING Discovering Algorithms by 8.5 PROBLEM SOLVING Solve a Simpler
Manipulating Physical Objects 245 Problem First 291

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 xviii Contents

8.6 Packages 295 10.3 The Comparable Interface 350

Organizing Related Classes into Packages 295 ST3 The clone Method and the Cloneable
Importing Packages 296 Interface 352
Package Names 297 10.4 Using Interfaces for Callbacks 355
Packages and Source Files 297 ST4 Lambda Expressions 358
ST4 Package Access 298 ST5 Generic Interface Types 360
HT1 Programming with Packages 299
10.5 Inner Classes 360
8.7 Unit Test Frameworks 300
10.6 Mock Objects 361
10.7 Event Handling 363
9 INHERITANCE 305 Listening to Events 363
9.1 Inheritance Hierarchies 306 Using Inner Classes for Listeners 365

9.2 Implementing Subclasses 310 10.8 Building Applications with Buttons 368

9.3 Overriding Methods 314 10.9 Processing Timer Events 371

ST1 Calling the Superclass Constructor 318 10.10 Mouse Events 374
ST6 Keyboard Events 377
9.4 Polymorphism 319
ST7 Event Adapters 378
ST2 Dynamic Method Lookup and the Implicit
Parameter 322
ST3 Abstract Classes 323 11 INPUT/OUTPUT AND
ST4 Final Methods and Classes 324 EXCEPTION HANDLING 383
ST5 Protected Access 324
HT1 Developing an Inheritance Hierarchy 325 11.1 Reading and Writing Text Files 384
WE1 Implementing an Employee Hierarchy for ST1 Reading Web Pages 387
Payroll Processing 330 ST2 File Dialog Boxes 387
9.5 Object: The Cosmic Superclass 330 ST3 Character Encodings 388

Overriding the toString Method 330 11.2 Text Input and Output 389
The equals Method 332 Reading Words 389
The instanceof Operator 333 Reading Characters 390
ST6 Inheritance and the toString Method 335 Classifying Characters 390
ST7 Inheritance and the equals Method 336 Reading Lines 390
Scanning a String 392
Converting Strings to Numbers 392
10 INTERFACES 339
Avoiding Errors When Reading Numbers 392
10.1 Using Interfaces for Algorithm Mixing Number, Word, and Line Input 393
Formatting Output 394
Reuse 340
ST4 Regular Expressions 395
Discovering an Interface Type 340
ST5 Reading an Entire File 396
Declaring an Interface Type 341
Implementing an Interface Type 343 11.3 Command Line Arguments 396
Comparing Interfaces and Inheritance 345 HT1 Processing Text Files 399
ST1 Constants in Interfaces 346 WE1 Analyzing Baby Names 403
ST2 Nonabstract Interface Methods 347 11.4 Exception Handling 403
10.2 Working with Interface Variables 348 Throwing Exceptions 403
Converting from Classes to Interfaces 348 Catching Exceptions 405
Invoking Methods on Interface Variables 349 Checked Exceptions 407
Casting from Interfaces to Classes 349 Closing Resources 409
WE1 Investigating Number Sequences 350 Designing Your Own Exception Types 410

bjeo_fm.indd 18 11/27/18 1:37 PM

Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
spend it in the mountains with his uncle’s family. He had no stomach to. He
was very far from Lois. He believed she was engaged, though he had
purposely avoided the confidence she almost forced him to ask.
“You don’t seem to want to know anything about me, David.”
“What is there to know?”
“There might be many things. Why don’t you ask? Then you may find
out.”
“What could there happen to you?”
“Oh, indeed, sir! So nothing could happen to me to interest you!”
David thought she was inviting him to bare his breast for her knife-
thrust. He was long past the desire of sensation from Lois at the expense of
pain. He looked dull. And Lois stamped her feet. “Then I shan’t tell you.
Now!”
Tom had suggested a plan. But he was half-hearted about it. He did not
want to go to the old place with his friend. He did not want to go with him
elsewhere. He went off alone. He selected the seashore. There seemed
nothing strange in this. He thought it was the turn of the sea. Here too he
did not altogether understand. He was afraid to tempt the old place with
David. Surely he would not enter it alone.
He went through a little huddled city, sweating and plethoric with high-
colored houses and swift dilapidations: a city with the face of a slovenly
fishwife, peeled by the summer sun and cut by the winter winds.
Beyond it the beach: a great golden girdle beneath the quiet bosom of the
sea. The ocean breathed gently there. It rose and fell passionless and sweet,
touching the word of men with virginal disdain. The sun smiled aslant, as if
half turned away out of compassion for the feebleness of men. But despite
its clemency, the human swarm was like a pullulant emanation in a rich
yeasty substance. Women and children and men shifted like black maggots
in the luxuriance of summer.
The sea rose from the night as a jewel glows and burns beyond itself.
The sun swung into the sky and made of it a luminous flood that poured
gold on the beach, splintered mazes of sapphire, emerald, bronze on the
breasting waters. Yet of itself the sky was no color and no thing. The sun
fevered and sank away, leaving the sky a-tremble with its passion. The sky
lingered, lost in the haze of the sun’s mystery, given to the rapture of
remembrance that is night.
Within this stillness the broken hurry of people. Men and women were a
low spawn flecking and feeding on the universal fragrance. Tom walked
among them and tried to amuse himself. Never had human life been so
distasteful to him, so anomalous.
He rose early to escape it. A line of boarding houses and hotels lay along
the sand. A motley strewing. High barracks with false Colonial fronts and
rococo pillars scarfing their dismal heights. Smug cottages burdened with
great names: Sea-Crest, Manning Arms, The Breakers. Sprawling, winging
frames with turrets that twirled and were picked out in colored glass.... On
the beach, when Tom set out, a sparse sprinkling of children. Mothers
gossiped low in the background and a few bathers, loosed from the
conventional bonds by the tart spell of the water, screamed, laughed,
gesticulated, bounded. Tom left them behind. The sea combed back and the
dwellings of men were lost. All about, flatness. The grass ran silver away
across salt meadows that were ruddy in sun.
The sea was broken here. It lapped idle, and was green and halted by the
blue purl of the river that came out to be lost in the sea’s freedom. The bay
was quieter than the scudding grass that marged it. There was a rocking
stillness everywhere against which the earnest and sharp sally of the pipers
in the sea-weed was a dissonant shred. Here Tom threw himself down and
took the pungent air into his eyes and mouth and let it moisten the strain of
his body. He was immersed in the sweet summer.
A mood grew on him. He learned of a mistake that he had made. Upon
the contrast and the stillness of this place came something from without and
filled it and made its song. He found that he was longing for the
comradeship of David.
Sitting idle and full of the sap of the summer, he found that the part of
him which warmed him was straining outward, toward a vague thing indeed
—since he wanted no specific thing of David—but with a pull that had no
vagueness. He found himself unable to partake of the gentle world he was
in. He found himself tangenting from it, making of his wish a rod to vault
him back into the burning City. He sat musing, half asleep, without sense of
time. He dug with his fingers in the sand. He watched a bug voyage from
spot to spot with a rapt floating interest. He tried to enjoy a cigarette, with a
sense telling him that the air had a sweeter perfume, could he but swing
himself to know it. Unease was on him. He consulted his watch and its
denotation of the hours was like news from a far country. Impulse to move
was balked by lack of desire to go. He stayed, balanced, bored, strangely
exhausted with these hours of indolence, glad of the excuse of hunger to
make him move.
The beach was bedlam. He went through the throngs, as if he were
wading a morass.
Only the buffet of the waves when he swam beyond the breakers gave
him a resistance where he could dwell with a certain comfort. But he could
not bathe all day. He went in to dinner. A sort of immersement in a black
pot where food was. Clatter of dishes, hot stickiness of human motion, flies
stuck on paper. It was hard to part the tasteless substance of his neighbors
from the sodden stuff he prodded down his throat.
He escaped to the sea. While the populace digested, he could be alone
with it. It beat in monotone upon his world: it flayed it. The sea lay there
cruelly content, droning its repetitious chant. Until the endless song
mounted, terraced, burst in his ears like a vast shout of conquest. Tom felt
an invasion. His small body was being swept by a terrene monster. The
sea’s laborious approach against his nerves was no relief from the crepitous
guerilla of the women, children, men, beating their individual sticks and
stones upon him. Tom went back to the deserted bay where the sea was less
the sea. And, gazing at the watery world, he wondered by what spell the
ocean had even been a balm to him: by what strength he had dared love it.
He said aloud to himself in the silence: “Well, leave here. I give you
permission. Go somewhere else. If this bores you.” He had no answer. He
did not wish to go somewheres else. He wished to go back.
He had always loved this being close among the pleasure-toiling people.
He had looked forward to the nights. The open theater, garlanded in paper
lanterns, the carrousel with its comical rugose rounds of music, the dance-
halls by the sea where the salt air swooned in the invasion of shuffled feet,
of perfume, of pop and beer. The silent stretches away from the lights where
he could see the couples under the moon discovering love, finding for once
glad uses for their bodies. All this Tom loved, and for it had come.... There
was the solemn jay decked in white duck trousers who walked as close as
he dared to the girl in frills, with her face simpering down toward her
languid feet. [How far her puff sleeves kept him off, how dangerous a
sealing of adventure to take her hands! And her lips? Could he have them
without the sea rocking upon them and wiping out the future?] Tom would
dance with the prettiest girl he could find—then with the ugliest: and
chuckle as he discovered the law of compensation unobserved. “She has
less looks, no more sense.” He would be hero to a gang of boys, buying
them soda and ice-cream: confidant of the pendulous matron in virginal
crinolines who believed him when he said that he was sure she could dance:
you must not let your daughters bully you, madam, into being old!... Then
aloof, watching the prides, the passions, the innumerable nonsenses collect,
become a single human clutter, astir in a flare of lights, a ribboning of banal
music, a haze of sweaty odors.... Once more about him silence and at his
feet a Sea—musing in its moveless might as if it were all the heavens, all
the stars made through some portent palpable to him. It lay there aloof like
truth. And he its master since it lay also in his brain. The crowds he had left
were a sputter of sand fallen on the sea and gone.
So, once. Now nothing of all this. The world had fooled him. Ashes were
in his mind. Yet he could not leave his mind and the world. Ten days Tom
moved in this numbness....
Sudden, he went to the station, and sent a wire to David, returned to his
hotel, paid his bill. The message was:
 “I am coming home. Save supper for me. Will call for you.”
... He had a sense that if he visited the bay it would be sweet and fertile
like a young woman who is warm with the breathing of her body: that if he
had stayed to dinner at the hotel, the women’s chatter would amuse him, the
naughtiness of the children under the frowns of their mothers shine like
snatches of song. For he was on the train....
A heavy heated day met him in the City: one of those laden evenings
when the air has lost its resilience to throw off the fetid waste poured by the
turmoil of life. All that the millions, in grips with the materials of work,
have thrown impure into the air remained for the millions to breathe.
But Tom was in high spirits. His ferry had moored him on the west edge
of Manhattan an hour before the time to dine. In this coincidence of his
train—the one good train to catch after his sudden resolution—he read a
happy omen. He would have time to wash at a hotel. He had no fears
because of the short notice of his message. David had few engagements
beyond occasional visits to his family, very few indeed whose urgency
would prevail against the urgency of Tom’s wire.
The thought of that urgency. Why was he so pressed to see his friend?
He felt no need of explaining to himself. That part of him which appraised
explanations seemed content without one—a strange thing in Tom—seemed
willing to nod, to say: “Yes. No need of further words. You wanted to see
him.” But what of the explanation to make to David? He might think the
lack of one peculiar?... Something just above his ears, in the back of his
head, cracked with a swift report like a cleavage in deep ice. It was an
instant: it had not hurt. During it, this thought, marvelously elaborate and
clear, touched light: he would tell the truth: he would take David to their
favorite café—down steps on Sixth Avenue under the booming elevated
structure—where his proprietary waiter, Charles, designed him dinners,
according to the weather, according to the look in his face, without
questions. There they would sit—he would say: “I missed you, David. My
vacation was a failure without you. I had to come back to New York to see
you.” Simple enough, and honest. Yet it had cleaved some icy armor in his
brain in order to get free. David would blush. He was so droll, so like a girl
with his ready blushing. And what would David answer? Tom walked along
with his elastic bound. He was a little like a pony pacer—a svelte small one.
David had had the simile. But above the sharpness of his steps, he swam in
a mist of fantasy. He believed that his mind would compress this mist, make
it clear solid fact. His mind seemed averse—indolent. Perhaps after all, it
could not. An illusion of the mist perhaps that it had the substance of the
fact-to-be. Tom saved himself from this conclusion: “Don’t live it now....
There’ll be nothing left after you’ve done imagining.” A faint reverberance
set in: reaction. “Why should I not tell him I was anxious to see him? Truth
is essential with a boy like David. I can’t give him any other reason.” The
steps of David’s lodging house were a bit steep.
He found himself outside the door. He was afraid to open. He knocked.
He did not think it right to be so ceremonious. He entered.
David was there. Tom went forward with the slain feelings the occasion
had given birth to. What he saw was a blight that had drawn the life of his
coming. What remained, talking, moving, was a ghost. David was not
alone. With him some friend.
“Farmer was alone. I happened to meet him coming up. I knew you
would not mind, Tom, if he came along.”
“Of course—of course not”
Tom knew that soon he would understand. In order to be polite, he had
better delay the moment. Perhaps, he could put it off till he was rid of these
two fellows.
“Where shall we go. I’m hungry.” David seemed satisfied. He had
worried a little perhaps? David put on his straw hat with a despicable slap
of his palm.
“Where you say. It makes no difference to me.”
Their favorite café—and Charles? David suggested. Tom nodded.
It was a hilarious dinner. Actually. Tom helped it. The Farmer person had
an aptitude for puns. He told them with a Carolina accent. Tom knew of
him, that he wore a straggly ribbon for a tie—gray and brown—tucked like
a shoe-string into the yellow edge of his collar. He knew also that the collar
button showed—it was black bone—and an adam’s-apple: that the shirt
bulged and was half stiff, and wrinkled. Tom knew no more because his
eyes rose no higher and no lower. They remained at their horizontal tension.
He packed them off to an extravaganza. No, he could not join them. He
simply could not. They would enjoy it without him. One did not go to the
theater for company—as one went to dinner. They were gone at last.
Tom was home like a spent arrow. Down the turbulent avenue with the
trains clamoring overhead. He took off his clothes. He was exhausted, as if
he had run that day, not been carried, to New York. In a moment, he slept.
He woke early and lay in his bed and understood.
David did not know it: he had done this thing with a knowledge surer
than knowing. That much was clear. If David had had a doubt as to the true
trivial purpose of Tom’s telegram, if he had so much as said: “There may be
something important” he must have given Tom the chance to tell him. It
was plain, David had sensed the lack of a particular business, guessed the
purely social nature of Tom’s wish: keen willing, without knowing, to avoid
it.
Was it stupidity? Tom thought not. The stupid person would not have
understood so much. He would have said: “There may be something
important.” Or, feeling the true inwardness of Tom’s importunity, he must
have been passive before it. Beneath David’s ingenuous behavior, there
worked a deliberate negation. That much seemed certain. Part of his will’s
function it had been to hide from David what it was all about, since his will
was willing to cause Tom’s distress, and David conscious would not have
been willing to cause it, David’s innocence a cloak over himself. But the
detail of his meeting Farmer? Tom believed that in the wide world of
occurrence the searching will could always find material for its act.
The important thing now was to slur over the affair. A great hurt, an
inexplicable wound: a pin prick that somehow had touched his heart—one
could not talk of such improbable things.
He saw David the next day.
“Really, man, why do you insist on foisting such impossible persons on
yourself and me?”
David squirmed. “I can’t say I like him either. But he seemed begging to
come along.”
“He is the dullest man I have seen in a year. I didn’t cut short my trip,
you know, to dine with your stray cats.”
“I suspected you couldn’t go him.... I knew something was the matter....”
... That was long since: that could not happen now. Tom sat over his
sleeping friend on the floor and had this thought: “He feels differently
now.” Of a sudden a twinge strangely akin to guilt went through him. What
was he thinking about indeed? He had wanted to be with David those idle
days. David had not had the same wish so strongly since he had spoiled
their first evening together. Perhaps now in a like case he might wish more
strongly. What was there unusual—guilty—in that? He had no desire to seal
David hermetically from the world. Surely he showed the contrary
intentions. Was he not introducing him to his friends? David had had a full
ten days, and he ten empty ones. Another time, David might be the eager
one. What was he troubling himself about?...
David lay still and asleep on the floor. David was up, brandishing his
arms, and his eyes sleepless as a day after hours of sun.
“I am off for a spin.” David was devoted to his bicycle. “What are you
doing this afternoon?”
Tom seemed to search up and down with his head. “I can’t think of
anything.”
“Good! Then, you’ll join us on our walk later on. We’re going to Bronx
Park: and have a supper of popcorn—three colors—hot-dogs and sauerkraut
and ice-cream soda.”
“Who are?”
“Why, Cornelia and I—and you.”
“I don’t like the bill-o’-fare.”
David’s face went a shade less light.
“Besides,” Tom caught himself, “I have an engagement. I promised to
have tea with Mrs. Duffield. Fennido is to be there. She asked me specially
to bring you, too.”
“You don’t seem to go out as much with Cornelia and me, as you used
to.”
“My dear fellow, I am getting busier all the time. You know that. If you
don’t understand, who should? You know that there goes into a date like
this something other than free choice.” He walked up and down. David
stood still. “Will you come?” Tom asked.
“I have this engagement with Cornelia.... If you ask Cornelia also.”
Tom’s eyes dropped. He hummed a few high notes of a popular melody. He
found his chair, slapped the Sunday paper into its proper folds on his knees.
 “One doesn’t take one’s family to these chatters, Davie. Fortunately,
since Cornelia would have to be dragged. How unreasonable you are.”
David stood motionless. He was wondering if Tom told all the truth.
Tom took the offensive: “I’ll be blessed, Davie, if you’re not thinking evil
things about me now. I don’t give enough care to my Sister. I don’t bring
her enough into my life, into our life.” He sat back in his chair and thrust
his sharp question into the indecisive vagueness of David’s “Not so?”
“Why—I didn’t say that.... But why do we go out together so seldom
now? We three. Why is Cornelia here so little?”
“Why don’t you invite her?”
“I always thought that was for you to do.”
“The truth is, David, you see Cornelia plenty.” Tom had achieved the
tune he wanted. He was out of the talk. By stress of David he would
manage to remain out. “I have nothing against your friendship with Sis. I
am happy about it. I had something to do with making it, you may
remember. It is good for her—and she means a lot. But you must broaden
out, man; at your time of life you must not crib yourself, even with a
Cornelia. You have no idea of the gamut of human relationships: of their
variance and wonder.... Why do you think I wished you to come with me,
this afternoon? You see how frank I am. Cornelia you can have any time
and always. But Laura Duffield will get weary of inviting you to meet her
friends, if you continue to show such nimbleness in avoiding her. That is
precisely what you need. Yes—a lot more, just now, than you need Sister.”
Tom was unanswerable. He did not press the matter further. He read the
news. But David later trudging the deserted side-street, between silent
walls, could not convince himself there was no answer.
“Cornelia,” he said, “come over to our place and spend Wednesday
evening.”
“I have an engagement, Davie.”
“Then come Thursday. Or Friday.”
Cornelia stopped. “Let’s sit on that bench,” she said. “Quick!—before
some one else——” Her first remark had been low, serious. A touch of
brightness in her last words that made David look at her. As they sat, it was
gone.
 Carriages flowed before them. Motionless coachmen, immobile ladies,
cramped frilled children passed like wooden figures in a carrousel. Only the
horses lived. And yet not all of them, since their docked tails and their
cruelly reined necks had an air of artifice.
“Listen, David. I want to speak to you. I should love to accept your
invitation. But ...” she stopped.
David felt a strange commotion. Something within him was full of panic,
wanted to get away. At most a fraternal fault was going to be found with
Tom. Why then did he have the sense that it was he who was going to be
accused—and more still, justly? These gusts of emotion were ridiculous.
Cornelia had as yet said nothing. Yet, at that moment, if a man had come up
to him and asked: “Is Thomas Rennard your friend?” David would have
stammered. Cornelia was speaking.
“You know, Davie—it was natural enough—when Tom lived alone, he
used always to come to me. I dropped in occasionally to look after him—
his curtains or his linen—or of course, if he wasn’t well. Then, he’d be
bundled over to my place. But I had ‘our home.’ Now, he has a real,
liveable place—the better of us two. But I have the feeling, David, that this
has not altered the old custom. Tom does not suggest my spending evenings
with you.” Having said so little, she was afraid she had said too much. She
went on: “Oh, course, he still comes to me.”
“Alone, then. We have not been together in your place since Tom is back
from his vacation.”
“Yes, he comes alone.” Cornelia spoke this slowly, pensively. Her next
words trembled swift upon each other as if escaping her thought. “I have
the idea that perhaps he likes to have his place apart—— It was that way
with his old room. When he wanted me, he came to me. He knew I was not
that way: that I was always glad to see him. I guess, don’t you think, he still
needs his corner for being solitary?”
“But, Cornelia—why then, share a——”
“Oh, that is different, Davie. Women are in the way.”
“I don’t feel that you are. Cornelia.”
“He does. He is a strange dear, you know. He feels that—that women are
in the way. He must.”
 David’s inexorable logic was a burden to Cornelia who loved it—even as
his candor hurt though she was nursing it. “Then you won’t come, next
week?”
“Not until Tom asks me. Only the first time I will feel like that. The first
time, it seems to me, the invitation had better come from him.”
She wanted to talk on. She had so much to ask and to confess. She had
not been invited to help fix their rooms. This was a most hurting difference.
She had concealed it. She felt that her words with David had been stupid.
Better silence than her feeble approach to speaking. What she wanted David
to see she had most hidden. All her moods toward him were of that sort.
Always, always. If she wanted to give herself, there she was turning away.
Of course Tom was not helpless in such a matter as arranging his apartment.
He had his own ideas. She had been sure at least that she would be
consulted. One afternoon she came: “How do you like things?” They were
complete. “Splendidly, Tom.” That was all. It was not the artist who was
offended. The artist in Cornelia could always be disposed of. But the
woman—the sister. She realized that David also had been but perfunctorily
consulted. This was still Tom’s place. Thinking of that Cornelia forgot her
own slight.
She looked at the boy beside her, looked up at him. They sat on the
ground. A pine tree rose straight above them. David studied the split roll in
his hand, with its long red sausage sticking out at both ends.
“I never know where to begin,” he chuckled.
Why could she not at least ask questions? What did they talk of, idle
nights? What was Tom’s attitude at home toward David? Tom’s place. Did
David feel this?
“First you must even up the roll and the sausage—bite off both ends.
Like this.”
“That’s the rule?”
“The rule....” She was like a woman carrying a great load upon her back
afraid to ease it, shift it a bit from the sore spot lest it crush her. She was
silent.
David ate methodically. He enjoyed eating. The bite of the mustard was
good on his tender tongue. He felt Cornelia beside him eating, not knowing
she ate. The “hot dog” was gone: he felt in her silence a need of question
which aroused his own.
 He wanted to know the truth of this strange problem between Tom and
his sister. He wanted to know if Cornelia was really somewhat sentimental,
somewhat “the old woman.” He wanted to be sure that she was; that Tom
was right, loving her, prizing her, putting her in her place. He wanted to be
sure that she was not.... He did not want to lose a tithe of his respect for her
—and for himself, sitting beside her close and wanting no change....
A pause, with the weight of their questions clear and compact—closing
them in. He was beside her coming close. She was open. Could they not be
open in this silence, whatever came? A tree, warm air, no one. Could they
not stay open, whatever was born?
Cornelia stirred with anguish. She was afraid: she was afraid to look at
David: for she was very open. He would pour in through her eyes, if her
eyes touched him. All he—into her all. Why not? Her answer was a word of
escape.
“——that party, tell me about it——” Escape from herself since already,
she knew, David was within her. She could not drive him away. She had no
will to. She could escape from herself.
“——I am not made for parties. But, oh, Cornelia? There was a man, a
wonderful man! He played piano for us. He said——”
Their spirits had met. Upon the tiny separateness of their questions of
Tom their spirits had met and tremorously touched. Now, their spirits
floated in opposite directions; timidly, still eye to eye, but with contrary
wings propelling them away.
They clasped hands.
“Good-by.” “Good-by, Davie.”
The true psychic reaction of their separateness together came to them
both.... David wondered if Tom was right. He had a good time with
Cornelia. Nothing fecund about it. Being with her led, if to anything, to
gaps and to stops invisible, before which always they turned away. “Perhaps
she is sterile.” “Why doesn’t she get married?” Sudden he had a grievance
against Cornelia. Life to them must be two separate things. He was happy
with her, but even that was a mere emptiness he would with youthful
eagerness have sold for a rich battle of pain. She was a woman, yet no
woman to him.... Cornelia walked away, knowing what David felt. All the
way back to her rooms she felt David moving toward Tom, David doubting,
David beginning to patronize and to take her in circumstance and reason.
 She thought his thoughts. She followed his eyes as they turned away
from hers, as they turned away from her. Her own were filled only with
what filled his. Seeing with his eyes she saw her enemy. She saw her
brother....
 IX

D AVID did not understand or question the spirit in which, the following
night, he went with Tom to dine at the apartment of Constance Bardale.
She had watched him with large eyes at the table, where he sat
mostly silent and very busy with the food that he found delicious. She had
manoeuvered him later aside from the chattering group. They talked quietly
together. David had no sense of her as yet, beyond the silk cold sheath of an
earth-colored dress fending a woman’s body.
But he did not suffer. He said to himself: “I don’t know really what to
say to her. But it goes all right.” He was pleased at this, grateful to her. He
showed it.
The opposing group broke into laughter. It broke its confines. A tall
massive man stood over the two.
“Constance,” he said, “you must hear this.” A thick, foreign accent
marred his otherwise perfect English. He was an Austrian: head of the
Stegending Galleries on Fifth Avenue where second-rate examples of
second-rate old masters fetched first-rate prices. He stood very close to
Constance Bardale, who looked askance at him with sly knowledge lighting
the flecks in her gray eyes. She seemed to be saying: “So this is the best
excuse you could find for breaking into my tête-à-tête? Don’t you see it is
hopeless? No, of course, you wouldn’t.”
The Austrian’s sally had its success. It was a breach toward the hostess
through which now the others began to flow upon her. The guests shifted
near. David remarked how directly Mr. Stegending spoke to Miss Bardale.
Unlike himself. But he took comfort in his partial isolation. He rested back
in it as he would have in his chair had his self-consciousness not made him
crane stiffly forward.
“It was Fennido’s idea,” said Stegending.
“I assure you, Karl, it was Con’s.” Fennido balanced himself with grace.
In a half courtesy he thrust out an indicating palm toward his hostess.
“Mine?”
“Now wait.” Richard Fennido rose to his full plump height. David saw
how large his buttocks were, like a woman’s: his small blue eyes peered
from beside the curved nose like a bird’s. He was poising evidently for his
sort of flight—in words.
“I said it was your idea, Constance, and I can prove it.”
A little woman at his side laughed prematurely. Her eyes seemed fixed in
a sort of perpetual fright. This was Mrs. May Delano, and her great fear was
not to appreciate and not to appear at home. Fennido began.
David found, as he talked, no need of the effort of attention. This Mr.
Fennido did not notice him at all. He seemed to hold Constance Bardale
with his eyes, the group about him with his shoulders that were curiously
sharp above so plump a body. He was done. There was a breaking up. A
new shredding of words, a new scramble from which another voice
emerged, momently mastered attention, sank away.
David watched Tom. Not consciously so much as because he nearly
always saw him, when Tom was there to see. He felt a strange thing. Tom,
the casual, easy Tom, was uneasy. He was fretted by some sharp discomfort.
His eyes wandered, his feet tapped, he lighted a cigarette and threw it away.
Fennido talked again. A great talker. Tom gathered the sharp points of his
nerves together: he was once more composed but with a tension that had in
it the power of some prefatory move: almost a charge. In the ensuing scatter
of minds, Tom was busy gathering them together, gathering them to him.
Ill-at-ease no longer. He was speaking....
He spoke for a while, wreathed in the comfortable silence of the others.
David’s eyes, moved by an impulse he was not conscious of, wandered.
They met the eyes of Marcia Duffield. He looked away, shocked by a
current which had flowed momently between them. David knew Tom’s
words held him unpleasantly; at times held him not at all. What was the
interest in them, what their motive, beyond Tom’s wish to speak and to hold
interest? David sensed this: sensed the rebuke he felt in this for Tom. As his
eyes went back to the eyes of Marcia Duffield it came to him that she was
feeling similar things with him. In the brief meeting of their eyes, it was as
if they had discovered one another in themselves.
This was absurd and impossible! Marcia Duffield? David’s mind could
not grasp this flashing intuition; it slipped leaving no conscious mark. He
looked harder at the others in the unwitting need not to look again at her.
Already, what he could carry with him of that strange momentary kinship
across the room was reduced to the sense of bright, black, hard eyes, filled
with a wistful question.
He was aware of King Van Ness: perhaps because that solid gentleman
was always looking at Marcia. David knew who he was: Junior partner in
Van Ness, Stone and Company—son of a great banker, doubtless a
millionaire. Van Ness sat as if between two fascinations: the voluble one
that was principally Tom, who at times caught him and sent him stiffer
forward in his chair; the silent one, Marcia, who never looked at him, but
the stirring of whose hands and mouth was at once reflected in his ways—
like the image in a dull steel mirror. Van Ness was heavy and tall, not stout.
His big bones and the heft of his arms and legs gave the impression of
extraordinary weight. Their heaviness proceeded rather from his mood than
their own heaviness. Van Ness was heavy, not because he was great in bulk,
but because he was small in spirit. The unlit stretch of him was a sag and a
pull downward because he lacked the lift of mental resilience. His head
stated this. The forehead was large and bulging. The brown eyes opened
wide and were far apart. The nose was long, straight, clumsily rather than
strongly molded with unmoving nostrils. Van Ness wore a black mustache,
a straight-cropt bristly brush: his mouth was small and unperturbed; his chin
jutted forward with a counterfeit of power that was mere lack of curiosity,
unresistance to the proprieties and manners birth had brought him. This was
King Van Ness: supremely gentlemanly, supremely rich, supremely dull—
impregnable. He stirred in the talk of Fennido and Tom as a heavy vessel
creaks at anchor in a choppy sea....
David heard Tom again.
“We had it out, until seven o’clock that night. I came home exhausted.”
Tom glanced at David. Not long or sure enough to see him turn pale.
“But it can’t be! It’s a lie!” David said to himself. He remembered the
evening Tom referred to. He had come home at six. Tom lay on the couch.
In excellent spirits. They had gone to Brown’s Chop-House for dinner. And
yet—David, as usual, had no positive proof. Perhaps a mere exaggeration, a
mistake in the day. Why was he always so eager—so afraid—to catch Tom
in a trivial falsehood?
Marcia was speaking to him. Van Ness had roused himself to a rare gust
of words. Serious words, half-angry. The question of labor-unions. Marcia
drew Tom aside.
 David saw how her eyes were close on him and how her breast stirred
faintly. He saw that Tom was watching only with his ears: his eyes
wandered to the talking banker. In a pause, “You must have had your wits
about you!” he threw in. He had heard every word.
Van Ness was flattered. Tom threw his head back, looking at the big man
in a way that drew a line between them. Van Ness came up, he seated
himself beside the pair. Marcia’s lips curled as if they had been stung. Van
Ness beamed on Tom, as he might have if Tom from great natural kindness
had done him a good turn. Marcia was stiff in her chair, looking away. She
seemed to be suffering and not to care for the instant if others saw it. Then,
her face covered. Why did David sense bravery in that? Marcia thought she
could wound either man by being affable to the other but she wanted to
wound both. Then it occurred to her that smiling on Van Ness might delight
Tom merely. She knew his game. He was done with her. He was putting her
away, neatly, satisfactorily—as he did, doubtless, all things. The bitterness
was, she could not but fall in with his plans. They were her plans also. None
fitted them better than King Van Ness. If only Tom were not thrusting her
into his arms! If only she had the madness, the courage to flout Van Ness in
order to spite Tom! She believed she might. But if she failed, thereafter, to
marry as well? her humiliation would still be before Tom: he would laugh at
her, or pity. It was all one. He was capable of saying: “Why didn’t you take
Van Ness? Don’t say I stood in your way!” Marcia knew she must take him,
some time. If only she could in the passing send an arrow to the man who,
having been her lover, had now the impudence to tell her: “I am your friend,
Marcia. I am deeply concerned.” Her friend! She had never been able to
discover her successor. She sat now, finding in her negative aloofness the
one sure way of not satisfying Tom in an attempt to hurt him. He took
pleasure so strangely!
David was next to Mrs. May Delano. She straining to take some humble
part in the near tête-à-tête of Fennido and Stegending with Constance
Bardale. She discerned David’s separation from the group: deduced
therefrom his inferiority. She was afraid to give much heed to him. She was
a proper, nervous little woman. She had revolted from her world because
she was so like her stodgy mother, so much attached to her thrifty and
careful father. She had married a mentally inferior Irishman because he
owned two theaters on Broadway and was hence in touch with “art.” All her
life was a pursuit of “interesting” people: in reality a retreat—equally vain
—from the middle class whose manners and beliefs rooted in her soul. Her
simple Jewish family took up her husband with delight. “I think, dear,” he
told her in order to give her pleasure, “I think I have more good Jewish
friends than any other sort.” She was, indeed, miserably married....
David was not averse to her leaving him alone. He felt what this woman
was, since he was untutored in the symbols of her pose. He wondered why
Mr. Stegending bit his lips.
Fennido was lyric against the baited Stegending’s silence. Stegending
brooded and tried not to listen to the intimate badinage of Constance and
her foil. His eyes rested glowering, stiff on this supple woman; wandered
off to some dimmer focus. A strange sorrow pervaded his hard face, the
sorrow of an animal rather than of a man. In this state, David almost liked
him. He looked less wise, less strong, more full of life when he was full of
this strange sorrow. Constance Bardale snatched him back from his
withdrawal; with a word fixed his eyes once more on her. It was as if she
needed him there in order to go on with Fennido. Stegending’s face
sharpened, it fell again into its mold of human cunning: it was nearer this
woman, farther from what David had cared for in him.
Constance got up; she took May Delano by the hand and placed her
glowing in her chair. She turned her back on the two men who watched her
slipping from them as one stares at an impossible offense.
“Well, Mr. Markand, are you coming to see me ever of your own accord,
or will I always have to wait till there’s a dinner?”
She sat beside him, bringing her chair still closer. She smiled with her
full face and her sinuously deflected body.
At once David knew that this which was happening to him was like the
other things which he had watched. He was part of this buzzing world. But
outside of it, so that he still could understand.
“I think I shall come, Miss Bardale. It is awfully good of you....”
“It is not good of me. I have no one in my place out of kindness. With
me, I assure you, charity stops at home.”
David flushed at the abrupt nakedness of her compliment. He gathered
from the candor of her example the courage to look at her as she had looked
at him.
 She was not beautiful. Her skin had a strange olive tinge: it was fleckless
smooth: it was not transparent. Her hair was heavy, not fine. He noticed her
wide short hands. Capable hands. The sense of her flesh, under the quiet
silken sheath of her gown had a disquietude and a heat that won him. For
the first time he realized how a woman whom he was able to know not
beautiful could be desirable. She made a direct call upon his senses. His
senses answered.
“You can’t possibly like me, yet, Miss Bardale? You do not know me.
Why, then, except to be polite——”
She laughed. Her laughter went into words.
His head was left out of it. She was a body. His own body told him.
Suddenly her talk and his seemed remote from the main purpose of their
nearness as if they stood in opposite corners of the room, tilting at each
other with long sticks.
He had to go on tilting. He could not come nearer. However inclined he
was—and to his own amazement—to drop his guards.
Her talk, he vaguely knew, made easy his sitting there. In the same
distant sense he felt that his defensive parries were not unworthy. But all of
this was not very conscious. The part of David given to their talk was
swimming along with a free stroke that the heavy touch of his deliberation
could only have disturbed. Indeed, a part of him was absent, and was busy
elsewhere. Their words rose up like a pelting fire. By its light, David could
look beyond, could peer into the spiritual corners of the room, could see
their darkness.
There seemed no affection at all: no fellowship. Even for themselves,
these persons had no affection. Their egoism was a hard and desperate
passion: fruit of some perennial resistance. David could not have reasoned
out why this should be: how affection must die in a hot contest: how either
it must die or it must share the intensity of the combating forces and turn to
passion. The way of these men and women toward themselves had much
the way of animals fiercely competing for food and for love. In a less bitter
contest they could have played together: like children or like animals that
are fed and tamed. Now they were playing at playing. David felt, in this,
their wide distinction from animals. A whole array of impulses and thoughts
muddied and distressed what might have been the clear flow of natural
conflict. They were whipped up into a delirium of broken starts that in the
end lacked all direction. Endlessly at work, in the upholstered room, under
the gowns of silk and the starched bosoms, a scrimmage of cold desire.
Some things each desired of the others: a body, ruin, disappearance, help....
David thought his impressions strange. Surely, he was mistaken, seeing
nonsense?
No doubt, however, of what Constance Bardale was now about. He had
no idea of her goal: it was plain she was testing him. As surely as if her
capable hands had moved over his body, she took his measure.
He knew now what he was doing, with his parries. To defend himself
was to accept her gage of battle. He was meeting Constance Bardale in the
field she had chosen. This was precisely what he now no longer wanted to
do. He became silent. And she who knew a way for his defensive was
helpless against his retreat. Against his resistance, she could display her
forces, but she was scattered and spent in the emptiness before her. David
sat back in his chair, looking beyond, thinking, and gave her nothing.
Constance Bardale got up and left him. “Let him stay alone if that is
really what he wants.” She thought in the falseness of a moment’s pique she
had been moved to rescue him from a painful solitude among the chatter of
others.
As she sat again, talking elsewhere, she had David in mind.
“What is it?” She recovered herself. “Is he a ninny or was he just bored?
I don’t think he’s a ninny.” She had intelligence to know, at least, that he
had not been frightened. There had been a calm in his sudden withdrawal
which was the contrary of fear.
She took his hand at the door, and now when the invitation she had so
unconventionally stressed would have been a mere matter of form, she kept
silent.
“Good-night, Mr. Markand.”
“Good-night, Miss Bardale.”
He was very serious and far away. She had the wit to smile and turn to
the others....

It was a crystal night of autumn. David and Tom could not think of
taking a car.
 David was sorely troubled. He was glad Tom made no effort to talk. A
question from him would have thrown David into panic. It was about Tom
he was troubled. And about himself.
“I am afraid. I am afraid to meet a woman flirting with me. I am a
coward,” he muttered to himself. Constance Bardale had understood him
better. She had glimpsed under his sudden tenacity of refusal to meet her, to
meet even her eyes or her laughter, some deeper preoccupation which her
profane self must not be allowed to enter. But David walked with a sense of
discomfort—wide and profound—as if all life were a garment that fitted
him ill. Tom was a mere most sensitive spot where the ungainly garment
caught.
He had the sad conviction of Tom’s dishonesty from the fact that he went
so well in that dishonest group: of Tom’s equal striving to overcome, to
grasp, to possess, he could have no doubt. It was all very ugly to David.
That did not matter. It mattered painfully that Tom should be ugly! Tom was
his friend whom he loved: whose life he was entering more and more. Who
was at fault that these constant doubts flared up against the passage?
Now he wanted to talk to Tom. Tom always took these doubts and talked
them away. He wanted Tom to dispose of the night’s new accumulation.
Tom walked on. He seemed troubled also. This was a new thought
lancing into David. His own misgivings were a shade less clear. Tom was
troubled. Perhaps Tom had a grievance against him? If he did——
“What makes you so silent?” he asked, before he knew: reflexedly as
one jumps from a danger and then looks to know what it is.
“Do you want to know?” Tom’s voice was hard. “I am going to tell you,
David. Sometimes you make it anything but easy for me.... These were my
friends. For my sake, you might have tried to be a little pleasant....”
“Wasn’t I pleasant, Tom?”
“Did you stir yourself to be? Oh, of course, I know what’s in your mind.
‘This is easy for Tom. He takes to all that frivol naturally.’ Well, I assure
you, my dear friend, you are mistaken. I do nothing of the sort. But I have a
sense of the world and of the need of living in it. That sense at times,
fortunately for me, is greater than my sense of my own importance. Your
sulks are nothing but conceit. Believe me! If I am distressed, it is because I
am anxious. I want you to grow up. I take you to places where you meet
mature and interesting people: people with minds. You might do me the
honor of trusting my intentions: enough not to sit there as if I had taken you
to a dime museum.”
“Tom—— I am sorry! I did the best I knew how.... Something made me
melancholy—yes.”
This was all wrong, all wrong, David was thinking. Yet how could he
right it? Tom had no real grievance against him. It was he who had the
grievance! Why did things always take this perverse turn? Why was he
always in the wrong? This time he was not.... Tom spoke on. He too hated
the superficial form that social intercourse seemed fatefully to take. But
under it the play of minds, the approach of men and women to each other
was good: justified the forms and the conversations. He was no creative
genius to revolutionize society. When David had succeeded in finding a
more satisfactory way for friends to share their thoughts, he would be
happy. Until then....
“But Tom—why did you, why did you have to make up stories that
aren’t so?”
It was difficult for David to ask this. All his being and courage were
summoned to the effort. Why should he need his courage?
Tom walked quietly on. David felt his vibrance. Either he was in wrath
or in pain. “So that is it?” Again he was silent.
At last: “David, my friend,” in a low still tone, utterly changed from
before. “Davie, you make me worry for you. This is not a mere lack of a
sense of humor. This is something deeper.”
He went on quietly. His words cut into David like curved knives.
Silently, David resisted. But the points of attack were too many. Attack
whirled about him....
David was always looking for faults in him, doubting his honor and his
word. Why? Had he so little faith in his friend? Let David tell him, had he
given him cause to believe the first ill thing about him vagrant in his mind?
David shifted to answer. Tom was attacking elsewhere.... David had no
sense of proportion. He seemed to take from his remarks nothing but
sources for quarrel. Or was it unwilling rather than unable? David was sure
he could here give satisfactory answer. He was perhaps too serious and dull:
he took everything Tom said so deep to heart! No cause for anger, really.
Tom had veered far.... Oh, this was no exception. There were many things.
The truth was David thought only of himself: David was selfish.
 “Why should you always sit in judgment on me? Supposing I began this
trick with you of weighing your deeds and your words to see what direct
pleasure they brought to me, as a miser might sift dirt to find the grains of
gold? Do you really think I couldn’t?”
A list.... The other evening, when Tom had had a headache, David had
gone around smoking and whistling. Did David recall the time Tom had
brought him his dinner? And the pique of David because Tom could not join
him and Cornelia on some insignificant walk. As if Tom had broken a tryst.
How David had his silences for a week, because of things like that. Did
David perhaps remember how he had honored Tom’s desire to see him on
his return from his vacation? honored it by dragging a dull outsider along
for dinner. Let David think of himself wiring so to Tom. Perhaps he thought
Tom’s silence meant he was not hurt that time when he broke their theater
date because he had forgotten it was Lois’ birthday....
“But you said you could easily find some one else.”
“Yes, David. I am not like you. I was afraid, if I made it hard for you, I
might spoil your evening. I put you at ease. The truth is, the tickets went to
waste. Yes, both of them. I had set my mind on that evening belonging to
us. Do you think I cared most about seeing Annie Russell? I did not choose
to go with some one else, on the occasion when I had chosen to go with
you. That night, if you want to know, I sat in the Library of the Bar
Association and read law. It was not my sense of justice to spoil your
evening which you had chosen to spend with your cousin Lois, because you
had chosen to spoil mine.”
“You know that isn’t fair! You know I went to the Deanes, because I had
to. Out of a sense of duty.”
“You have a sense of duty toward your frivolous cousins; none toward
your friend. I admire your distinctions.”
“But, Tom, they would all have been insulted!”
“Whether I was insulted had no importance....”
So it went. David was inexorably and forever in the wrong.
“Your cousins, your uncle, your aunt. I am to judge you care more for
them than for me. They mean more to you. Doubtless their ideas, also.”
He flayed David’s smugness: his cowardice: his failure to grow up.
David’s sentiment was perfunctory: his sensibilities were dull: he had no
recognition of what was going on in the minds and hearts of those who
should have been dear to him. Loving meant taking. Tom flung him
dolorously down to a level with that cousin whose company he had
preferred and loyalty to whom, as against Tom, he had elected. David
followed by the side of his tormentor, as by the side of fate....
Near where they lived was a little Square. It lay blue beneath the green
haze of the lamplights. It was timid there under the sweep of the City. The
buildings and the high flare of movement over the night made it deep like a
well. Tom and David paced round it. Their steps were harsh to David as if
in dissonance to the Square’s sweet reticence. They knew they must have
this out ere they passed through the door.
A dull weight was on David. The crystal night was black and through the
blackness pain flashed like lightning. All this was within him. About all this
was he, numb and unable to feel himself. He knew the dark by the
lightning.
It was not the sense of wrong that made him suffer. It was the
impediment to that sense. Had he been able to are noble and I am unworthy,
it would have been easeful and sweet. He had great longing to do just this.
It was the something hindering him that hurt.
Why was it? He had no answer to Tom. One by one, his objections had
disappeared as he voiced them—his objections to Tom. Was it perhaps that
he was proud and vain—not big enough to avow his faults? Oh, if it was but
that! And then, the hateful alternative that blocked his emotions. For was it,
perhaps, that he had not really voiced his objections?... that all of these
words were far from the true misgivings?
David did not know. He knew that at that moment he yearned to be fully
convinced, to be convinced that he was fully wrong. He needed to force
himself. His mind told him Tom was right. His heart willed Tom be right.
Let Tom be sincere and the perfect friend: let him be the lacker! His mind
argued, his heart sang for this sweeter way. They forced him through the
forms of acquiescence.... Something neither mind nor heart could not,
would not submit: waved frantic and helpless against all the world. This, the
bleak hurt in David.
The battle was manifestly over.
They stood in the hall of their flat.
 Tom was smiling. Tom suffered also. In his smile, as he put forth his
hand, was a plea for forgiveness.
In that gesture, Tom spoke his deepest truth. He had been indeed on the
defensive. Attacking David, he had fought for himself: fought for his place
in the heart of his friend: fought to cover from David and from himself the
flinching part of him which shrilled and manoeuvered for attention, plotted
for power. With his soul sick in revolt. David’s rebuke was the rebuke and
call of his own nature. Since David embodied this, Tom needed him, needed
him to love him: also, since David embodied this, Tom needed to destroy
him.
In the silence of the hall, the true Tom spoke. As if he had said: “I have
said nothing. You are my better self, my deeper self. Stay near to me.
Forgive me.”
David saw his gesture. He understood that it was sincere. He could not
read its context. He needed no more than that it was sincere.
A sweet flood suddenly was over him: the certainty for which he had
thirsted.
With both hands he took the hand of Tom. He held it close. His eyes
were full of tears. It was David who spoke: “Forgive me!”

In the morning, David awoke full of weariness.

Tom bounded bright from his bed.
At breakfast he was loquacious. He teased Mrs. Lario. He had long
spells of laughter over his attempts at Italian.
The heavy woman waited on them silently and let his pleasantries
rebound from her like rubber balls. She was devoted to her “wonderful Mr.
Rennard.”
“Let us get David to speak Italian,” he said. “David is altogether too
provincial.” He threw out the terms he had picked up as if he were pelting
David with them. David stirred languidly. He was full of sleep.
“Well, I’m off.” Tom jumped up, before David had finished. “Have a
case to-day before Justice Bayne. Wish me luck, Davie. The problem is to
keep the old fellow awake. Otherwise I’ve no chance. If he sleeps, I lose.”
He stood in the doorway, his eyes flashed, and laughed.
 “You ought to see him, Davie, when he falls asleep on the Bench! He
gets deeper and lower—in his swivel chair. His legs are always crossed. As
he slides down, the upper leg grates in such a way on the other as to lift its
trouser gradually up. Down goes Bayne: up goes the trouser. Till the leg is
bare, and the garter visible. There is the Scale of Justice for you. Ha-ha!”
He was gone.
As he raced to his elevated train, the last evening raced with him. He
was going to his Office—to the law—into the world.
“When Marcia marries Van Ness she must make me a wedge into his law
business. I must absolutely manage that! Lomney and Rennard, of counsel
for Van Ness, Stone and Company. Gad, what a coup!”
He had no thought of David. He had no thought of himself, save as the
instrument of his own progress....
 X

S O the days and the nights: the weeks and the months. Tom direct toward
his several goals; David involute and hesitant, sinking, it seemed to him,
forever deeper from mastery of self and from some vague light he
yearned for. Each of his revolts from Tom had the same ending: found him
contrite and dedicated to his own unworthiness. David did what his friend
wanted. Even to the extent that when he was with Cornelia he came away
disillusioned. He patronized Cornelia. He evolved a superficial concord
with his relatives and their friends that left him free and fitted Tom’s
measure of the way to handle such useful, lower factors in one’s life. He
went with Tom’s friends when Tom took him along. His work downtown
was satisfactory. He was industrious, tactful, busy. He was not happy.
“Perhaps,” he said to himself, “perhaps I do not give myself enough to
all these things.”
He looked at his life and was amazed to find how little he did, even how
little he went out, of his own accord.
Yet, his uncle said to him: “My boy, I am delighted with you. Do you
know what you have? You have imagination. I am beginning to realize
already on my investment of you. Come up, can you, this evening? Aunt
Lauretta has asked the whole lot of Tibbetts.”
He saw Cornelia with fair frequence. She never asked him to come: and
yet how happy she was when he was there! She disturbed him not at all.
She let him go his way. She came seldom to their flat. But she was getting
somber, it seemed to David. Older as well. The glow of her great eyes had
been a virtue in her homeliness. If they faded, she would be ugly.
Sometimes David thought that they were fading.
“Don’t forget,” Tom said, “Cornelia is past thirty.”
But aside from these rather bleak activities, David found himself empty.
He had no way of making joy and sharpness from his world’s encounters.
When he reflected, he was inclined to blame his dullness. “I am stupid!”
he thumped himself with. And he reflected more. He decided to change. He
did not know in this very decision the kernel of what he sought. Having
resolved to change, he was changed already.
 Perhaps it was the new year blossoming. It had been an unusually severe
winter. All winters in New York are unusually severe, and most summers.
New Yorkers have no memory for their chief source of conversation: a fact
that serves to keep it green. But now came occasional mild days colored
blue like the sky, keyed low like the clouds that dawdled over the City. The
great town was no longer an imprisoned foe underneath the air. It went forth
and the air and the town joined forces. David walked the streets with his
coat flung wide so the breeze could seek him out and thaw those crannies of
himself that had been frigid and asleep.
He made several excursions to the country—alone. They proved
abortive. He found it painful to reach the drowsy earth with his drowsy
mind. And yet the earth’s call was dear, now that the buds stood hard on the
hard wood. He could not respond. He could not keep from trying to
respond. A strain.
There were dinners and theater-parties with Caroline Lord. But one day
David found in himself the courage to decide that he detested her. That this
strapping, full-blown woman should take the airs of a secluded virgin was
ill enough: but that, with all her experience of life, she should display a
virgin’s judgments was unbearable. Was Miss Lord perhaps trying to
impress him with her endless thrumming on respectability, her hymned
pæans to the moral outlook? Why should she care so much for the standards
of wealth, who was forever insisting that her family had been penniless but
of high social value? Either this woman was ashamed of her own
intelligence and enterprise or else she thought David would like to deem her
so. David was not sure. Soon he did not care. Her vigorous solicitude for
the manners and customs which she assumed were theirs had an offensive
note. It made David silent and reserved. It left the field to Miss Lord. So
that the efficient lady preened herself and spread herself and paying no true
attention to her friend had no idea of her effect upon him.
Tom laughed when he told him about her. David found that there was no
difficulty in speaking to Tom about Miss Lord.
“But why should you expect something better of her?” Tom asked him.
“Well, she is capable——”
“Bosh, my dear man. Look at her straight. The only strength she has, I
am convinced, is the strength of Deane and Company—a strength she
sucks.” Tom had met her once. Since then, he had skillfully avoided all
David’s efforts to make him join them some night at dinner. “Now tell me
frankly can you imagine that lady, with her advertised virginity, her mincing
mind and her stiff sense of right and wrong, careering in open battle? Don’t
you see that she is something only in her position? Her substance comes
from the fields whose produce she helps distribute at a profit.”
“She seems to be forever bowing to judgments like those of Aunt
Lauretta.”
“Of course, since she gets her keep from the same place.”
David had many evenings alone. He found he liked them. He had never
been included in more than a tithe of the whirling activities of Tom who,
now, had added politics to his program. Tom was a member of Tammany
Hall.
“The young men are profiting by the folly of the reformers,” was the
way Tom put it. “They have learnt, Davie dear, as I hope you shall learn
also, generally speaking, that you can’t win a fight without joining with
your enemy. We have done with kid-glove pats at corruption. We are going
to clean up the undesirable elements of the Democratic Party by first
entering their stronghold. That is why we are going into Tammany.”
David had never managed to believe in the monopolized purity of the
Republican Party, although his uncle had spent some breath upon him to
that purpose. Largely, he was indifferent and neutral. He had a sense of guilt
in his organic ignorance about such vital matters. He asked:
“Is your partner, Mr. Lomney, also in Tammany?”
“Lord no!” Tom exclaimed.
And there it was—the incomprehensible that was forever cropping out!
Why, in view of what Tom had just assured him about Tammany Hall, this
protest of denial regarding Mr. Lomney?
“Lomney is a Democrat,” Tom went on. “A Gold-democrat, of course.
But he has no party affiliations of a direct sort.”
“What other sort are there, Tom?”
“There are the really important sort,” Tom smiled. “We are vitally
concerned in certain franchise concessions: traction and gas and the like.
See?”
“Is that the reason Mr. Lomney must not belong to Tammany Hall?”
 “That is the reason, rather, why I should,” Tom paused. “We are in where
we should be, and out where we should be. Understand?”
Emphatically, David did not. All he could make of this party business
was that it was a kind of game. The nation’s money-boxes had highly
veneered and colored surfaces. The Republican was more polished, the
Democratic had more color. If one said, “I believe in the blue and gold
design” did one mean, “I get into the coffers by the side that is painted blue
and gold?” David had these little speculations and was properly ashamed of
them. He knew they were the sure consequence of his being unable to
understand.
When he dined alone he was least troubled. There was a Hungarian
restaurant he particularly liked because of the delicious thick soups and the
beer and the caressing music. He went there often and ate perhaps more
than he should, and sat about drinking his beer very soberly and slowly,
puffing at the superb English pipe Cornelia had given him for his birthday.
It had an amber stem and the one flaw in the delight of smoking was that he
needed to be careful not to bite it through.
On this evening, as usual, he was not alone at his table. At this sort of
place, where a sumptuous meal cost forty cents, one could expect no more
than one’s own seat at the board. Mostly, men came and bowed stiffly for
permission to sit down and were no sooner seated than they forgot him
altogether in their torrents of strange words. Now came a man with his lady.
David listened to them through the meal with an interest that might
conceivably have flagged had he been able to understand the Magyar
tongue. But the complete veil over their words made watching their faces
and their gestures, noting the gait of their voices, a sort of game. It
sharpened their personalities as these revealed them, and as the community
of language must have dulled them. David took delight trying to break up
the endless turgid flow into words and sentences. Mostly, he had delight in
watching the woman.
She was a bursting healthy creature, not yet thirty but ripe and matronly
and at her ease. She wore a pink gauze waist over a covering of creamy silk
that lashed about the rondures of her breast as if its task were desperate
against the fullness of all that flesh. She was not fat oppressively. Her form
was impetuous against the insipid continence of silk and satin. Her cheeks
and her lips were almost equally red. They were in perpetual motion with