Selma laughed, with a charming little gesture of the shoulders and the hands that reminded Jane of her foreign parentage. "Nothing else seems worth while," said she. "Nothing else is worth while. There are only two entirely great careers—to be a teacher of the right kind and work to ease men's minds—as those four did—or to be a doctor of the right kind and work to make mankind healthy. All the suffering, all the crime, all the wickedness, comes from ignorance or bad health—or both. Usually it's simply bad health."
Jane felt as if she were devoured of thirst and drinking at a fresh, sparkling spring. "I never thought of that before," said she.
"If you find out all about any criminal, big or little, you'll discover that he had bad health—poisons in his blood that goaded him on."
Jane nodded. "Whenever I'm difficult to get on with, I'm always not quite well."
"I can see that your disposition is perfect, when you are well," said Selma.
"And yours," said Jane.
"Oh, I'm never out of humor," said Selma. "You see, I'm never sick—not the least bit."
"You are Miss Gordon, aren't you?"
"Yes—I'm Selma Gordon."
"My name is Jane Hastings." Then as this seemed to convey nothing to Selma, Jane added: "I'm not like you. I haven't an individuality of my own—that anybody knows about. So, I'll have to identify myself by saying that I'm Martin Hastings' daughter."