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Sinclair, May, 1863-1946

"The Divine Fire"

They say you ought to marry, that if you don't marry you can't
possibly hope to keep it up, and they say you never will marry if you
continue to be so exclusive. Exclusive was the word. But before I left
they'd married you to Mr. Jewdwine. You see dear, you're so exclusive
that you're bound to marry into your own family, no other family being
good enough."
"It's certainly a new light on my character."
"I ought to tell you that Mrs. Crampton takes a charitable view. She
says she doesn't believe you really mean it, dear, she thinks that you
are only very, _very_ shy. She has heard _so_ much about you, and is
_dying_ to know you. Don't be frightened, Lucia, I was most discreet."
"How did you show your discretion?"
"I told her not to die. I tried to persuade her that she wouldn't love
you so much if she did know you."
"Kitty, that wasn't very kind."
"It was the kindest thing I could think of. It must soothe her to
feel that this exclusiveness doesn't imply any reflection on her
social position, but merely a weird unaccountable dislike. How is it
that some people can't understand that your social position is like
your digestion or the nose on your face, you're never aware of either,
unless there's something wrong with it."
"Kitty, you're not in a nice mood this afternoon."
"I know I'm not. I've been in Harmouth. Lucy, there are moments when I
loathe my fellow-creatures."
"Poor things. Whatever have they been doing now?"
"Oh, I don't know.


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