Prev | Current Page 64 | Next

Wylie, I. A. R. (Ida Alexa Ross), 1885-1959

"The Native Born or, the Rajah's People"

Because my mother wants what she calls
position--she wants to mix with the best. We couldn't do that in England,
for the reasons I have given you. As for me--I fulfil my destiny. I am
seeking a suitable husband."
He drew in his breath in something that was not unlike a gasp.
"My dear Miss Cary, do you know what the world--particularly the woman
world--would call you?"
"_Does_ call me, you mean? Of course. An adventuress."
"To be quite frank, you've hit it. But I don't. I call you a jolly
extraordinary and clever woman."
"Please don't pay me compliments," she said coldly. "My cleverness--if I
have any--is not more than that of any hunted animal who seeks cover where
best he can. As to my being extraordinary, I do not see that you have any
reason to call me so. You might as well say that it is extraordinary when
a weed springs up where a weed has been sown--"
"Or a flower," he interposed suavely.
She sank back in her seat, saying nothing. Her silence was a weary sort of
protest.
Travers pulled out his watch with his free hand.
"We have only five minutes more," he said. "We are splendidly up to time.
I tell you what, Miss Cary--you can eat Colonel Carmichael's dinner in
peace." She looked quickly at him. "I mean that I shall hold my tongue. I
don't know that I ever intended doing anything else. I am not responsible
to society, and in any case, no direct blame for the past can attach
itself to you.


Pages:
52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76