Загублений світ
There Are Heroisms All Round Us
Shenoddedseverely.
"WhatcanIdotomendit?Dositdownandtalkitover.No,really,Iwon’tifyou’llonlysitdown!"
Shelookedatmewithawonderingdistrustwhichwasmuchmoretomymindthanherwhole-heartedconfidence.Howprimitiveandbestialitlookswhenyouputitdowninblackandwhite!—andperhapsafterallitisonlyafeelingpeculiartomyself.Anyhow,shesatdown.
"Nowtellmewhat’samisswithme?"
"I’minlovewithsomebodyelse,"saidshe.
Itwasmyturntojumpoutofmychair.
"It’snobodyinparticular,"sheexplained,laughingattheexpressionofmyface:"onlyanideal.I’venevermetthekindofmanImean."
"Tellmeabouthim.Whatdoeshelooklike?"
"Oh,hemightlookverymuchlikeyou."
"Howdearofyoutosaythat!Well,whatisitthathedoesthatIdon’tdo?Justsaytheword,—teetotal,vegetarian,aeronaut,theosophist,superman.I’llhaveatryatit,Gladys,ifyouwillonlygivemeanideawhatwouldpleaseyou."
Shelaughedattheelasticityofmycharacter."Well,inthefirstplace,Idon’tthinkmyidealwouldspeaklikethat,"saidshe."Hewouldbeaharder,sternerman,notsoreadytoadapthimselftoasillygirl’swhim.
