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Chapter 17

           "Ishallneverchange,Sibyl,"Ianswered—"Iloveyou—Ishallalwaysloveyou.ButIwishyouwouldnotanalyseyourselfsopitilessly—youhavesuchstrangeideas—"

           "Youthinkthemstrange?"shesaid—"Youshouldnot—inthese‘newwomen’days!Ibelievethat,thankstonewspapers,magazinesand‘decadent’novels,Iaminallrespectseminentlyfittedtobeawife!"andshelaughedbitterly—"ThereisnothingintherôleofmarriagethatIdonotknow,thoughIamnotyettwenty.Ihavebeenpreparedforalongtimetobesoldtothehighestbidder,andwhatfewsillynotionsIhadaboutlove—theloveofthepoetsandidealists—whenIwasadreamychildatWillowsmere,arealldispersedandended.Idealloveisdead—andworsethandead,beingoutoffashion.CarefullyinstructedasIhavebeenintheworthlessnessofeverythingbutmoney,youcanscarcelybesurprisedatmyspeakingofmyselfasanobjectofsale.Marriageformeisasale,asfarasmyfatherisconcerned—foryouknowwellenoughthathowevermuchyoulovedmeorIlovedyou,hewouldneverallowmetomarryyouifyouwerenotrich,andricherthanmostmen.

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