It was true that they were not as continually devoted to her
and to the nice art and etiquette of pleasing as Emile,--they had other
things to think about, being in business and not being GENTLEMEN,--but
then they were greatly superior to these clowns, who took no notice of
her, and rode off without lingering or formal leave-taking when their
selfish affairs were concluded. It must be the contact of the vulgar
earth--this wretched, cracking, material, and yet ungovernable and
lawless earth--that so depraved them. She felt she would like to say
this to some one--not her father, for he wouldn't listen to her, nor to
the major, who would laughingly argue with her, but to Mrs. Randolph,
who would understand her, and perhaps say it some day in her own
sharp, sneering way to these very clowns. With those gentle sentiments
irradiating her blue eyes, and putting a pink flush upon her fair
cheeks, Rose reached the garden with the intention of rushing
sympathetically into Mrs. Randolph's arms.
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