Загублений світ
There Are Heroisms All Round Us
Myinstinctsareallagainstawomanbeingtoofrankandathereasewithme.Itisnocomplimenttoaman.Wheretherealsexfeelingbegins,timidityanddistrustareitscompanions,heritagefromoldwickeddayswhenloveandviolencewentoftenhandinhand.Thebenthead,theavertedeye,thefalteringvoice,thewincingfigure—these,andnottheunshrinkinggazeandfrankreply,arethetruesignalsofpassion.EveninmyshortlifeIhadlearnedasmuchasthat—orhadinheriteditinthatracememorywhichwecallinstinct.
Gladyswasfullofeverywomanlyquality.Somejudgedhertobecoldandhard;butsuchathoughtwastreason.Thatdelicatelybronzedskin,almostorientalinitscoloring,thatravenhair,thelargeliquideyes,thefullbutexquisitelips,—allthestigmataofpassionwerethere.ButIwassadlyconsciousthatuptonowIhadneverfoundthesecretofdrawingitforth.However,comewhatmight,Ishouldhavedonewithsuspenseandbringmatterstoaheadto-night.Shecouldbutrefuseme,andbetterbearepulsedloverthananacceptedbrother.
Sofarmythoughtshadcarriedme,andIwasabouttobreakthelonganduneasysilence,whentwocritical,darkeyeslookedroundatme,andtheproudheadwasshakeninsmilingreproof."Ihaveapresentimentthatyouaregoingtopropose,Ned.Idowishyouwouldn’t;forthingsaresomuchnicerastheyare."
Idrewmychairalittlenearer."Now,howdidyouknowthatIwasgoingtopropose?"Iaskedingenuinewonder.
"Don’twomenalwaysknow?Doyousupposeanywomanintheworldwasevertakenunawares?But—oh,Ned,ourfriendshiphasbeensogoodandsopleasant!Whatapitytospoilit!
