''
``I do not like kept women, either with or without
a license,'' said he in the same even, indifferent way.
``When you ceased to be a kept woman, I would help
you, if I could. But no one can help a kept woman.''
There was nothing to do but to rise and go away.
She rose and went toward the house. At the veranda
she paused. He had not moved. She returned. He
was still inspecting the horizon, the cigarette depending
from his lips--how DID he keep it alight? She said:
``Mr. Keith, I am sure you did not mean to insult me.
What did you mean?''
``Another of those questions,'' said he.
``Honestly, I do not understand.''
``Then think. And when you have thought, you
will understand.''
``But I have thought. I do not understand.''
``Then it would be useless to explain,'' said he.
``That is one of those vital things which, if one cannot
understand them for oneself, one is hopeless--is beyond
helping.''
``You mean I am not in earnest about my career?''
``Another of those questions.
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