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“Well, I’ll be darned! Gosh! Science is golden or something—isn’t it?”
“Maybe because he’s the only man I know, good or bad, who has an imagination and the courage of his convictions.
Being a supreme egotist Ardita frequently thought about herself; never having had her egotism disputed she did it entirely naturally and with no detraction from her unquestioned charm.
“Lie to me by the moonlight. Do a fabulous story.”
“Courage—just that; courage as a rule of life, and something to cling to always.
and the female hell is deadlier than the male.”
And it was with his glad sigh of relief when her light watery laughter curled up the side of the cliff and into his anxious ears that he knew he loved her.
Suddenly against the golden furnace low in the east their two graceful figures melted into one, and he was kissing her spoiled young mouth.
Her sigh was a benediction—an ecstatic surety that she was youth and beauty now as much as she would ever know. For another instant life was radiant and time a phantom and their strength eternal—then there was a bumping, scraping sound as the rowboat scraped alongside.
“What an imagination!” she said softly and almost enviously. “I want you to lie to me just as sweetly as you know how for the rest of my life.”
gracious, soft-voiced girls, who were brought up on memories instead of money.
“Anyway, I know you too well to fall in love with you.”
life reached in, seized him, handled him, stretched him, and unrolled him like a piece of Irish lace on a Saturday-afternoon bargain-counter.
Women didn’t come into men’s rooms and sink into men’s Humes. Women brought laundry and took your seat in the street-car and married you later on when you were old enough to know fetters.
Fire blazed suddenly from the gray forests of his eyes.
“We’ll call ourselves Head and Shoulders, dear,” she said softly, “and the shoulders’ll have to keep shaking a little longer until the old head gets started.”
“Poor gauzy souls trying to express ourselves in something tangible. Marcia with her written book; I with my unwritten ones. Trying to choose our mediums and then taking what we get—and being glad.”
Damn
She had never felt so sorry for him; she had never loved him so much.
their sadness was no longer eternal, only human,
It was astonishing to think that life had once been the sum of her current love-affairs. It was now the sum of her current problems.
He wondered idly whether she was a poor conversationalist because she got no attention or got no attention because she was a poor conversationalist.
At eighteen our convictions are hills from which we look; at forty-five they are caves in which we hide.
The more parts of yourself you can afford to forget the more charm you have.”
“I hate dainty minds,” answered Marjorie. “But a girl has to be dainty in person. If she looks like a million dollars she can talk about Russia, ping-pong, or the League of Nations and get away with it.”
This was the test supreme of her sportsmanship, her right to walk unchallenged in the starry heaven of popular girls.
