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London, Jack, 1876-1916

"A Daughter of the Snows"


"And so I point the parable. The fire is very good, but I misuse it,
and I am punished."
"You forget," he objected. "The fire works in blind obedience to
natural law. Lucile is a free agent. That which she has chosen to do,
that she has done."
"Nay, it is you who forget, for just as surely Dorsey was a free agent.
But you said Lucile. Is that her name? I wish I knew her better."
Corliss winced. "Don't! You hurt me when you say such things."
"And why, pray?"
"Because--because--"
"Yes?"
"Because I honor woman highly. Frona, you have always made a stand for
frankness, and I can now advantage by it. It hurts me because of the
honor in which I hold you, because I cannot bear to see taint approach
you. Why, when I saw you and that woman together on the trail, I--you
cannot understand what I suffered."
"Taint?" There was a tightening about her lips which he did not
notice, and a just perceptible lustre of victory lighted her eyes.
"Yes, taint,--contamination," he reiterated. "There are some things
which it were not well for a good woman to understand. One cannot
dabble with mud and remain spotless."
"That opens the field wide." She clasped and unclasped her hands
gleefully. "You have said that her name was Lucile; you display a
knowledge of her; you have given me facts about her; you doubtless
retain many which you dare not give; in short, if one cannot dabble and
remain spotless, how about you?"
"But I am--"
"A man, of course.


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