The Ugly Fruit of My Exile

"The ugly fruit of my exile is at this hour present to me," says Vericker. "I spent the summer with him, trying to show him by example how to get back to work and nursing a rage of another sort that I tried not to show him." The whole business proved the first of a series of phenomena so strangely interlaced that taken together, which was how I had to take them. They form as good an illustration as I can recall, of the manner in which fate sometimes deals with a man's avidity.