“Oh, no, it is not! It’s the deepest and most inalienable of human instincts.”
“Instinct is nothing but memory.”
“Possibly. We’ll call it by another term. Imperative impulse. And the sex-impulse has its birth in the generative cells. It has nothing to do with tradition.”
“I know that well enough. But you were talking of love. What has that to do with sex cells?”
“Well! More than you seem to imagine. Do you really believe that love between men and women can exist independently of sex?”
“Of course. Look at me. I love you even more than I do Elsie or Polly, and you might wear a one-piece dress for all the difference it would make.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Bylant, pardonably exasperated, almost struck a child in the face with his stick. “As it happens I don’t wear petticoats——”
“We don’t either. Bloomers.”
“Oh, you are impossible!” But he was forced to laugh. He made his voice gay and challenging. “Suppose I should fall in love with you?”
“I don’t see you falling in love with anybody.”