She was so
impressed by the necessity of considering the future that,
to rouse herself, she tried to frighten herself with
pictures of poverty and misery, of herself a derelict in the
vast and cold desert of New York--perhaps in rags,
hungry, ill, but all in vain. She did not believe it.
Always she had had plenty to wear and to eat, and
comfortable surroundings. She could no more think
of herself as without those things than a living person
can imagine himself dead.
``I'm a fool,'' she said to herself. ``I'm certain to
get into all sorts of trouble. How can it be otherwise,
when I've no money, no friends, no experience, no way
of making a living--no honest way--perhaps no way
of the other kind, either?'' There are many women
who ecstasize their easily tickled vanities by fancying
that if they were so disposed they need only flutter an
eyelid to have men by the legion striving for their favors,
each man with a bag of gold. Mildred, inexperienced
as she was, had no such delusions. Her mind happened
not to be of that chastely licentious caste which continually
revolves and fantastically exaggerates the things
of the body.
Pages:
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203