"At least I felt obliged to seek an outlet. I could not stifle my real
self for ever, and yet I could not be comfortably silly with those who
were absolutely convinced of my permanent good sense. I tried to be
several times.
"Didn't you succeed?"
"Not once."
"Tch! Tch!"
"So at last I was driven to the double life."
"Then your coachman knows?"
"MacSpillan! No! I took a cab--a four-wheeler--at the corner of the
Square, and the name of Minerva Partridge. It's a silly name, isn't it?"
She asked the question with earnest anxiety.
"Quite idiotic," said the Prophet, reassuringly.
"I felt quite sure it was," she cried, obviously comforted. "Because it
came to me so inevitably. I was so perfectly natural--and alone--when I
invented it. No one helped me."
"I assure you," reiterated the Prophet, "there is no doubt the name is
absolutely and entirely idiotic."
"Thank you, dear Mr. Vivian! What a pleasure it is to talk to you! Under
this name I have, for a year and a half, led an idiotic life, such a
life as really suits me, such a life as is in complete accord with my
true nature. Oh, the joy of it! The sense of freedom! If only all other
silly girls who look sensible like me had the courage to do what I have
done!"
"It is a pity!" said the Prophet, in assent, beginning to be genuinely
moved by the obvious sincerity of this human being's bent towards
folly.
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