n a t b s

that the fool Man will oppose everything except a Hand Extended; that he will stand up in the face of every hazard except Lonely Time; that for the sake of his poorest and shakiest and screwiest principles he will lay down his life, endure pain, ridicule, and even, sometimes, that most demeaning of American hardships, discomfort, but will relinquish his firmest stand for Love.  Draeger had seen this proven.  He had watched oak-hard mill bosses come to ridiculous terms rather than have their pimply daughters pilloried at the local junior high, seen die-hard right-wing labor-hating owners grant another two bits an hour and hospital benefits rather than risk losing the dubious affection of a senile aunt who happened to play canasta with the wife of the brother of a striking employee that the owner didn’t even know by sight or name. Love–and all its complicated ramifications, Draeger believed–actually does conquer all; Love–or the Fear of Not Having It, or the Worry about Not Having Enough of It, or the Terror of Losing it–certainly does conquer all.