"Yes; if the game was worth the candle."
"But surely some game is worth the candle."
"Oh, certainly; only, not this one, of taking—in the way you seem to think girls want to take."
"Some girls do."
"Oh, some girls, of course—only, not—not my kind."
"But what is your kind? That's what I can't understand."
The girl smiled—a dim, distant, rather wistful smile that merely fluttered on the lips and died like a feeble light.
"And that's what I can't explain to you, mother darling."
"Are we so far apart as that?"
"We're not far apart at all. It's only that I'm myself, while you want me to be a continuation of you."