Bertha said, “Nice philosophy. What does it add up to in this case?”
“It adds up to the fact that Mrs. Goldring is a fool — a frivolous fool. She’s deliberately squandered her insurance money, acting on the assumption that she could invest that money in getting another husband. She’s had clothes, beauty treatments, expensive apartments and contacts. In case you’re interested I can even give you the sordid details.”
“Sordid details always interest me,” Bertha said.
“Very well. Her insurance was twenty thousand dollars. In place of investing that wisely, Mrs. Goldring decided she would spend four thousand dollars a year for five years, thinking that would be plenty; that sometime during the five years she would land a desirable husband. Having once reached that decision, it was difficult for her to remain within the price limits she set for herself. And I will say one thing, she was generous to Carlotta. Partially for Carlotta’s sake, and partially, perhaps, because she had to provide generously for Carlotta in order to keep up her own background.”
“She made a mental limit of four thousand dollars a year. She spent over seven thousand dollars the first year. For the most part she travelled extensively, hoping to meet the type of person she wanted in the intimacy of a long voyage. She might have made a go of it if she hadn’t made the mistake so many women make.”
“What?”
“She fell in love with a man who had no intention of marrying her. He wasted a year of her time and finally got the bulk of her money.
“When Mrs. Goldring awakened to the truth, she redoubled her efforts to capture her lost youth. Ever play golf, Mrs. Cool?”
“Some.”
“You’ll realize what I mean, then, by trying too hard. When you click out your easy shots down the centre of the fairway, you’re simply swinging in a perfect rhythm of coordination. When you get too eager, get in too much of a hurry, get too anxious to get distance with your drives, you foozle your shots. Well, Mrs. Goldring got too eager. She foozled her matrimonial shots.”