"I'm afraid I
haven't much sympathy with you," she said.
"You haven't?" he looked amazed.
"No." She paused a moment. "It was a pity you told me. You see, a woman
doesn't care to be married--just for that."
"And what do you suppose she married me for?" he demanded indignantly.
"Do you think she was in love with me--a man thirty years older than
herself? Oh, I assure you, there were never any illusions on that score!
I had a good deal to offer her, and she jumped at it."
Juliet gave a slight shiver, and abruptly his manner changed.
"I'm sorry. Put my foot in it again, have I? You'll have to forgive me,
please. No, I shouldn't have told you. But you've got such a kind look
about you--as if you'd understand."
She was touched in spite of herself. She got up quickly and faced him.
"What I can't understand," she said, a ring of deep feeling in her
voice, "is how anyone can possibly barter their happiness, their
self-respect, all that is most worth having, for this world's goods,
this world's ambitions, and expect to come out of it anything but
losers. Oh, I know it's done every day. People fight and scramble--yes,
and grovel in the mud--for what they think is gold; and when they've got
it, it's only the basest alloy.
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