...
"Why," commented Hildreth, "these verses sound like what a very callow
youth would write, who never had experience with women ... I mean by
that, intimate knowledge of them."
I flushed and sat silent.
"Some day, when you've lived more," remarked Ruth, "you'll write
love-poetry more simple, more direct."
"Though infinite ways He knows
To manifest His power,
God, when He made your face,
Was thinking of a flower!"
I read.
"There again you have an instance, of what I mean ... you are only
rhetoricising about love; not partaking of its feelings."
"But I wrote all these poems about a real girl," and I told them the
story of my distant passion for Vanna.
"No matter--you're a grown-up man who, as far as knowledge of women is
concerned, has the heart of a baby," observed Hildreth.
--"in these days of sex-sophistication a fine thing!" cried Ruth.
"Yes, when out of the mouths of babes and sucklings come quotations from
Havelock Ellis and Ellen Key!" cried Darrie.
"Good! Darrie, good!" Hildreth applauded....
"--time to go to bed ... here it's almost one o'clock."
"--had no idea it was so late. I have a lot of typing to do to-morrow.
Good night, folks!" and Ruth was off to her room upstairs.
"Good-night, Hildreth,--suppose you're going to sleep down in the little
house!" It was Darrie who spoke.
"Yes," answered Hildreth, in a simple tone, "I will feel quite safe
there .
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