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You are
still rich, and I am still poor. Better than that, you have
(judging by your last remark) outgrown the foolish, impulsive
passions of your early girl-hood. I have not outgrown mine."
"I beg your pardon," said she, with vibrations of strong feeling
in her words. "I have been placed in a position which hinders
such outgrowings. Besides, I don't believe that the genuine
subjects of emotion do outgrow them; I believe that the older such
people get the worse they are. Possibly at ninety or a hundred
they may feel they are cured; but a mere threescore and ten won't
do it--at least for me."
He gazed at her in undisguised admiration. Here was a soul of
souls!
"Mrs. Charmond, you speak truly," he exclaimed. "But you speak
sadly as well. Why is that?"
"I always am sad when I come here," she said, dropping to a low
tone with a sense of having been too demonstrative.
"Then may I inquire why you came?"
"A man brought me. Women are always carried about like corks upon
the waves of masculine desires.


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