em to themselves, at least.

This was his great experiment with Marie, about which a large part of
this book is to be concerned. But this interest, this effort, extended
itself to many other individuals, and whenever Terry could feel himself
in contact with what he felt was essentially human, and, at the same
time, to his sense beautiful, he was filled, as I have said, with that
deep excitement of pleasure, which was both intellectual and moral. I
remember, one day, he said to me: "How often, during the lifetime of the
Rogues' Gallery, did I saunter down State Street with the pleasing
knowledge that I would find some 'low' person, girl or man, whom I knew
I could get at, who would strip himself or herself bare to me in a
spiritual sense, and would be revealed disinterestedly, would have no
axe to grind and no contemptible small ends to gain, and no tradesman's
commercial morality and no grafting conventionality, no moral cant based
on self-interest--some being so near the 'limit' that he was
intellectually and morally fearless and did not need to pose, from whom
some truth could be derived, whose sincerity and power of
straight-seeing was not warped and concealed by any bourgeois ambitions,
by any respectability."

From time to time Terry would take one of these beings home with him--to
his Rogues' Gallery and to Marie and to the other intimates, mainly more
or less self-conscious anarchists, all or nearly all derelicts of the
labouring class. There they could stay as long as they aesthetically
fitted, could share the communal cigarette, beds, beer, and food. And
Terry and Marie and their friends would talk and read aloud--Terry the
teacher, giving transcendental light into the nature of the good, the
beautiful, and the true. Many an outcast here came first to a pleasing
sense that from some points of view he was not altogether bad, nay, that
he had unexpectedly good points. Many of them to some philosophic
intensity; conversation became a joy, strangely unknown hitherto. The
educational character of this meeting place was marked, but, as I have
said, Terry's indiscriminating passion for the outcasts of the
proletaire limited the intellectual development of his little society.
At a later time, a much more developed society grew around Terry and
Marie, as we shall see, when we get to the Anarchist salon, or the
intellectual drawing room of the Anarchist Proletaire.

Terry's main effort was, at this time, and for years