But
_'Tis better to have loved and lost_
_Than never to have loved at all_.
This is the tradgic story. Tom had gone to the station,
feeling repentant probably, or perhaps wishing to drive the
Arab, and finding me not yet there, had conversed with the
hackman. And that person, for whom I have nothing but contempt
and scorn, had observed to him that every day I met a young
gentleman at the three-thirty train and took him for a ride!
Could Mendasity do more? Is it right that such a Creature,
with his pockets full of nails and scandle, should vote, while
intellagent women remain idle? I think not.
When, therefore, I waved my hand to my _fiancee_, thus
showing a forgiving disposition, I was met but with a cold bow.
I was heart-broken, but it is but to true that in our state of
society the female must not make advanses, but must remain
still, although suffering. I therfore sat still and stared
hautily at the water cap of my car, although seathing within,
but without knowing the cause of our rupture.
The Stranger came. I shrink in retrospect from calling him
the Theif, although correct in one sense.
Pages:
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312