``If I were you, Davy, I'd keep away from her for the
present-- give her time to think it over, to see all the
advantages. If a man forces himself on a queer, wild sort of
girl such as Selma is, he's likely to drive her further away.''
Davy reflected. ``Guess you're right,'' said he finally. ``My
instinct is always to act--to keep on acting until I get results.
But it's dangerous to do that with Selma. At least, I think so.
I don't know. I don't understand her. I've got nothing to offer
her--nothing that she wants--as she frankly told me. Even if she
loved me, I doubt if she'd marry me--on account of her sense of
duty. What you said awhile ago-- about women never doing things
from a sense of duty-- that shows how hard it is for a woman to
understand what's perfectly simple to a man. Selma isn't the
sheltered woman sort--the sort whose moral obligations are all
looked after by the men of her family. The old-fashioned woman
always belonged to some man-- or else was an outcast. This new
style of woman looks at life as a man does.''
Jane listened with a somewhat cynical expression. No doubt, in
theory, there was a new style of woman. But practically, the new
style of woman merely TALKED differently; at least, she was still
the old-fashioned woman, longing for dependence upon some man and
indifferent to the obligations men made such a fuss
about--probably not so sincerely as they fancied. But her
expression changed when Davy went on to say:
``She'd look at a thing of that sort much as I-- or Victor Dorn
would.
Pages:
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304