.. the fact is, Hildreth doesn't know what she wants."
"But Darrie--Darrie is her friend?"
"Of course ... and remains her friend. Darrie doesn't want Penton. She
only pities him."
I quoted the line about pity being akin to love ... "they do a lot of
strolling together."
"Yes. But there's nothing between them ... not even a kiss ... of that
I'm certain. Darrie is as cool as a cucumber ... and Penton is as shy
with women as--you are!"
I smiled to myself. If Ruth had seen us that preceding afternoon!
"Of course the fault could not all be on Hildreth's side."
"No, they're both a couple of ninnies ... but there's this to be said
for Penton, he's trying to get something done for the betterment of
humanity ... while Hildreth's only a parasite."
"And Darrie--how about her? What does she do but loaf around in a more
conventional manner, talking about her social prestige, the dress of one
of her ancestresses in the Boston Museum, her aristocratic affiliations
... how many and how faithful those negro servants of hers are, down
South ... between the two, Hildreth has the livest brain, and puts on
less."
"Take care! You'll be falling in love with Penton Baxter's wife yet!"
Our talk was halted by Darrie's re-appearance. Hildreth came furtively
back, too, from the little cottage, like a guilty child. She apologized
to Darrie, and her apology was accepted, and, in a few minutes we were
talking ahead as gaily as before.
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