She's very keen on horses. Then either she goes out to lunch
or someone lunches with us. And after that she's off in the car for a
fifty-mile run--or a hundred if the mood takes her. She's never
quiet--except when she's in bed. That's what I want you for. I want you
to keep her quiet."
"Oh!" said Juliet.
This was shedding a new light upon the matter. She looked at him somewhat
dubiously.
"Come! I know you can," he said. "You've been through the treadmill. You
know all about it and it doesn't attract you. This infernal chase after
excitement--it's like a spreading fever. There's no peace for anyone
now-a-days. I want you to stop it. You've got that sort of influence. I
sensed it directly I saw you. You've got that priceless possession--a
quiet spirit. She wouldn't go tearing over the country racing and
gambling and then card-playing far into the night if you were there to
pull her up. She'd be ashamed--with anyone like you looking on."
"Would she?" said Juliet. "I wonder. And how do you know that that sort
of thing doesn't attract me?"
"Of course I know it. You carry it in your face. You're a woman--not a
dancing marionette. You wouldn't despise a woman's duties because they
interfered with pleasure.
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