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Phillips, David Graham, 1867-1911

"The Price She Paid"

Looking at him, she felt that he had
dismissed her and her affairs from his mind.
``Is it?'' she said, to bring him back.
``What?'' asked he vaguely.
``You said that a singer didn't have to be able to
sing.''
``Did I?'' He glanced down the shore toward the
house. ``It feels like lunch-time.'' He rose.
``What did you mean by what you said?''
``When you have thought about your case a while
longer, we'll talk of it again--if you wish. But until
you've thought, talking is a waste of time.''
She rose, stood staring out to sea. He was observing
her, a faint smile about his lips. He said:
``Why bother about a career? After all, kept
woman is a thoroughly respectable occupation--or can
be made so by any preacher or justice of the peace.
It's followed by many of our best women--those who
pride themselves on their high characters--and on
their pride.''
``I could not belong to a man unless I cared for him,''
said she. ``I tried it once. I shall never do it again.''
``That sounds fine,'' said he.


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