| “‘Funny an’ yellow an’ faithful— Doll in a teacup she were, But we lived on the square, like a true-married pair, An’ I learned about women from ’er!’ |
“But I wonder what would have happened if it had been a woman like you instead of the one who laughed.”
“I shouldn’t have laughed.”
“This damned face of mine!”
“You mustn’t say that! Why not try to make over your soul to match it?”
“How is that done?”
The irony was so gentle that she fell silent for a space.
“Are you going to take Mr. Cleigh’s paintings when you leave us?”
“My dear young lady, all I have left to be proud of is my word. I give it to you that I am going after pearls. It may sound crazy, but I can’t help that. I am realizing a dream. I’m 212 something of a fatalist—I’ve had to be. I’ve always reasoned that if I could make the dream come true—this dream of pearls—I’d have a chance to turn over a new leaf. I’ve had to commit acts at times that were against my nature, my instincts. I’ve had to be cruel and terrible, because men would not believe a pretty man could be a strong one. Do you understand? I have been forced to cruel deeds because men would not credit a man’s heart behind a woman’s face. I possess tremendous nervous energy. That’s the principal curse. I can’t sit still; I can’t remain long anywhere; I must go, go, go! Like the Wandering Jew, Ishmael.”
“Do you know what Ishmael means?”