As for friends--friends
accustomed themselves to the status quo. There came a time when
the spectacle of two men chattering to everybody else in a
company, and not saying a word to each other, no longer appealed
to Bursley's sense of humour. The silent scenes at which Maggie
assisted every day did not, either, appeal to Maggie's sense of
humour, because she had none. So the famous feud grew into a sort
of elemental fact of Nature. It was tolerated as the weather is
tolerated. The brothers acquired pride in it; even Bursley
regarded it as an interesting municipal curiosity. The sole
imperfection in a lovely and otherwise perfect quarrel was that
John and Robert, being both employed at Roycroft's Majolica
Manufactory, the one as works manager and the other as commercial
traveller, were obliged to speak to each other occasionally in the
way of business. Artistically, this was a pity, though they did
speak very sternly and distantly. The partial truce necessitated
by Roycroft's was confined strictly to Roycroft's. And when Robert
was not on his journeys, these two tall, strong, dark, bearded men
might often be seen of a night walking separately and doggedly
down Oldcastle Street from the works, within five yards of each
other.
And no one suggested the lunatic asylum. Such is the force of
pride, of rank stupidity, and of habit.
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