And put ‘em in little books for remembrance. She kept her eyes closed. Don't be afraid, man,—off with it. “I think we are growing sensible,” he said. At any rate he made it very clear that night that there was an ineradicable discord in life, a jarring something that must shatter all her dreams of a way of living for women that would enable them to be free and spacious and friendly with men, and that was the passionate predisposition of men to believe that the love of women can be earned and won and controlled and compelled. Her husband quickly joined the fray, making her giggle and laugh. Throughout the afternoon, while the doctor was giving her the first lesson out of his profound knowledge of life, her interest would break away continually, despite her honest efforts to pin it down to the facts so patiently elucidated for her. I had consecrated my life to His Work; and I took the primrose path.
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