I thought you'd be glad to know that they
felt as I did."
The first flash of genuine feeling she had shown, was the one that broke
through on her repetition of the name "Harriet!"
"Yes," he said, and he had, for about ten seconds, the misguided sense
of dialectical triumph. "I know a little how you feel toward her, and
maybe she's justified it. But not in this case. Because it was Harriet
who made me see that there wasn't anything--disgraceful about your going
on the stage. It was her own idea that you ought to use your own name
and give us a chance to help you. She'll be only too glad to help. And
she knows some people in New York who have influence in such matters."
During the short while she let elapse before she spoke, his confidence
in the conviction-carrying power of this statement ebbed somewhat,
though he hadn't seen yet what was wrong with it.
"Yes," she said at last, "I think I can see Harriet's view of it. As
long as Rose had run away and joined a fifth-rate musical comedy in
order to be on the stage, and as long as everybody knew it, the only
thing to do was to get her into something respectable so that you could
all pretend you liked it.
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