Belloc seemed to be saying the
exact things she needed to hear.
``I'll tell you why. Because I didn't work. Drudging
along isn't work any more than dawdling along.
Work means purpose, means head. And my luck began
just as anybody's does--when I rose up and got
busy. You may say it wasn't very creditable, the way
I began; but it was the best _I_ could do. I know it isn't
good morals, but I'm willing to bet that many a man
has laid the foundations of a big fine career by doing
something that wasn't at all nice or right. He had to
do it, to `get through.' If he hadn't done it, he'd never
have `got through.' Anyhow, whether that's so or not,
everyone's got to make a fight to break into the part of
the world where living's really worth living. But I
needn't tell YOU that. You're doing it.''
``No, I'm not,'' replied Mildred. ``I'm ashamed to
say so, but I'm not. I've been bluffing--and wasting
time.''
``That's bad, that's bad,'' said Mrs. Belloc.
``Especially, as you've got it in you to get there.
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