After a marked pause, Mazie reverted to the subject of M. St. Hilaire. Had he proposed as usual during the morning's ride?
"Yes," said Janet.
"No other news?"
"He assured me that I could have everything I wanted. Even my soul should be my own."
"I don't like that sob stuff about souls," said Mazie whimsically. "What did you answer?"
"I told him that women would never be able to call their souls their own until they could call their bodies their own."
"My God, Janet! You have to give the poor man something for his money."
"Exactly. And as I can't give him a fair return for it, it's clear that I oughtn't to marry him, isn't it?"
"Fair return! Did you ever see anybody give a fair return in this sex business? I can gamble on it you didn't. Fair return! Look here, Janet, who started putting a price on love? Did women start it or did men? Was it men or women that threw love on the curb to be bought and sold with other junk? Say, did you ever see a man who'd take love for a free gift? Let me give you a tip, dearie. If a woman don't sell her love for all she can squeeze out of a man, and give him underweight into the bargain, the man don't think he's getting his money's worth."
She went on to say that every relation between the sexes was a case of the shearer and the sheep. Somebody was certain to be shorn. The man would fleece the woman unless the woman fleeced the man.