This was a different, a graver thing, even than she had
expected.
"Your world?" Deliberately now she dared to argue. "Barbara, didn't
you know, from the beginning, that his world would have to be yours?
Did you ever think that you could change him--that way?"
Barbara moved her head.
"I wanted both," she said. "I wanted all I have--and him, too. I
learned that night he took care of me how much I cared; I know he'd be
as careful of me, all his life. But I had thought that he might be
able to do as father has done and let other men handle the---- But he
knows now! He understands me! I tell you I'm no good. I've no
backbone. I'm just pink and white flesh without any spirit!"
The other woman sat and smoothed the bright head and wished she knew
what to say. "It would please me to know just what stuff she is made
of, too," Miss Sarah had once admitted to her brother. She wondered if
at last she knew.
"I do not know what to tell you," she murmured slowly. "I thought if I
talked with you I might be able to help you, but I am afraid now that I
cannot. He is a better man than you are woman, Barbara; because he has
builded with his hands, he has reared him a soul as well. He knows the
depths, and the heights are far more wonderful for such knowledge. Oh,
dear me, I wish I knew----"
She paused there, shaken by her own impotence.
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