“Not at all. We’re just wise. We have the sagacity to avoid the steep and narrow path which leads to heroism, because we blinkin’ well know that we should never get there.”
“But——”
“One moment. If Fortune puts us upon that path, as she may, that’s another matter. We get to heroism then. But if we choose it of our own free will—never. Never. Because, sooner or later, we always regret our choice. And there ain’t no admittance to ’eroism for gents wot regrets their choice.”
“I seem to know that line,” said Miss Choate. “Isn’t it out of His Sin against Her Love?”
Fairfax appeared to wince.
“Tennyson, dear, Tennyson. Hiawatha’s address to the Boy Scouts.”
There was a pregnant silence.
As soon as she could trust her voice—
“Aren’t you leaving love out of the question?” ventured Athalia.
“I don’t think so. I know love jettisons fear, but I don’t think it sandbags the instinct of self-preservation. I don’t mean that if you tottered into a bear-pit I wouldn’t go in to get you out. But if you dropped your lip-stick in—well, the bears could have it.”