“I didn’t come here to hide behind any falsehoods.”
“That’s just as well.”
“In my youth I was wild. Ever since I can remember I’ve been an untamed, rebellious soul. I rebelled against schoolrooms. I rebelled against convention. I called my mother a liar when she tried to tell me things about Santa Claus. She never explained the facts of life to me. By the time she thought I was ready, I could have told her things she never knew. Gradually, she came to a realization of that. I guess it broke her heart.”
Bertha made no comment.
“It’s important,” the woman went on, “that you get just that picture in its proper perspective.”
“Okay, I’ve got it.”
“I doubt if you have, Mrs. Cool. I wasn’t the boy-struck young adolescent, nor was I an over-sexed, under-disciplined personality. I was simply a young body with the inquiring mind of an adult. I was impatient of hypocrisy and the false modesty which seemed to shroud the actions of older people. I loved to take chances. That made for excitement, and I thrived on excitement. In fact, Mrs. Cool, it was excitement and change that I craved. I was impatient to plunge into all the life there was to live, and to see what it was like. And then there was Carlotta.”
“I wasn’t frightened when I realized. I wasn’t particularly ashamed. I was curious, and a little startled that such things could happen to me. I left home and went to work in another state. Before Carlotta’s birth I put myself in touch with an institution. I refused to sign certain waivers and legal papers so that my child could be properly adopted. My baby was mine. I knew that I couldn’t keep her, but I had a fierce sense of possession. She was mine. She would always be mine, no matter where we were. Remember, Mrs. Cool, this was after the First World War when conditions were in a chaotic state of upheaval. Soldiers were pouring back from abroad and waiting, many times in vain, to be absorbed into the economic life of the nation. Jobs weren’t easy. There were times when I went hungry.”
“I’ve been hungry,” Bertha said simply.
“And now, Mrs. Cool, I’m going to say something on behalf of the conventions. I still think they’re founded on hypocrisy and self-deceit, but they are the conventional pattern of life. They represent the rules under which the game is played. Once you violate those rules, you are cheating on civilization, and when you begin to cheat you soon lose your attitude of proud defiance and begin cutting corners here and there. You cheat on one thing, pretty soon you cheat on another. You start covering up. Slowly, imperceptibly, you lose your proud independence. You become an opportunist, you get on the defensive, and, after that, you develop a furtive side to your nature.”