The things we do!

But she was not the sort of woman
he had supposed her. It was Carlisle, after all, who had won in
the game!
For two moments he debated many things in his mind. Did not women
of old sometimes relent? He asked himself over and over again the
same questions, pleaded to himself the same arguments. After all,
he reasoned, this was only a woman. Eventually she must yield to
one sort of treatment or the other. He had not reflected that,
though the ages in some ways have stood still, in others they have
gone forward. In bodily presence woman has not much changed, this
age with that. The canons of art remain the same, the ideals of art
are the same. These and those lines, gracious, compelling,--this
and that color, enchanting, alluring, so much white flesh, thus much
crown of tresses--they have for ages served to rob men of reason.
They have not changed. What this man could not realize was that
there may be changes not of color and of curve.
Not so long as all this they gazed at each other, measured, took
ground, gaging each the adversary opposite.


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