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Page 55
'If you like. But I don't know. There are such things, no doubt, as
cynics by temperament; congenital cynics. Then, indeed, you may cry:
The eye of the beholder. But others become cynics, are driven into
cynicism, by sad experience. I started in life with the rosiest faith
in my fellow-man. If I've lost it, it's because he's always behaved
shabbily to me, soon or late; always taking some advantage. The
struggle for existence! We're all beasts, who take part in it; we must
be, or we're devoured. Women for the most part are out of it. Anyhow,
_plus je vois les hommes, plus j'aime les femmes_.'
'Are you a beast too?'
'Oh, yes. But I don't bite. I'm the kind of beast that runs away. I
lie by the fire and purr, but at the first sign of trouble I jump for
the open door. That's why the other fellows always got the better of
me. They knew I was a coward, and profited by the knowledge. If my
dear good uncle hadn't died, I don't know how I should have lived.'
'I'm afraid you have "lived" too much.'
'That was uncalled for.'
'Or else your looks belie you.'
'My looks?'
'You're so dissipated-looking.'
'Dissipated-looking? I? Horror!'
'You've got such a sophisticated eye, if that suits you better. You
look _blas�_.'
'You're a horrid, rude, uncomplimentary thing.'
'Oh, if you're going to call names, I must summon my natural
protector.' She blew on her golden whistle, and up trotted the
obedient B�zigue.
That evening Paul said to himself, 'I vastly fear that something
serious _has_ happened to you. No, she's everything you like, but she
_isn't_ that sort.'
He was depressed, dejected; the reaction, no doubt, from the
excitement of her presence. 'She's married, of course; and of course
she's got a lover. And of course she'll never care a pin for the
likes of me. And of course she sees what's the matter with me, and is
laughing in her sleeve. And I had thought myself impervious. Oh, damn
all women.'
X.
'Don't stop; ride on,' he called out to her, next morning, 'I shan't
be amusing to-day. I'm frightfully low in my mind.'
'Perhaps it will amuse me to study you in a new aspect,' she said.
'You can entertain me with the story of your griefs.'
'Bare my wounds to make a lady smile. Oh, anything to oblige you.'
She leapt lightly from B�zigue, and sank upon the moss.
'What is it all about?'
'Oh, not what you imagine,' said he. 'It's about my debts.'
'I had hoped it was about your sins.'
'_My_ sins! I'm kept awake at night by the thought of _yours_.'
'Your conscience is too sensitive. Mine are but peccadillos.'
'You say that because you've no sense of moral proportion. Are
cruelty and dissimulation pecadillos?'
'They may be even virtues. It all depends. Discipline and reserve!'
'I'll forgive you everything if you'll tell me your name.'
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