“Anne, you will not understand in the least; you probably will be offended, but, since you ask, I will tell you.”
But there I stopped.
“So, you’re not going to tell me?”
“No. Besides, it is a question of a point of view.”
“I wonder what you really think of me, Davy?” she said, puzzled. “Is it such a very bad opinion?”
“It is not your fault. It is the whole system,” I blurted out, led on by my growing irritation; the feeling, perhaps, of the quality of girlhood that should be there and was now gone; the eyes that had seen too much, the ears that had heard too much, the woman who knew too well her worth in the eyes of men. Perhaps it was because I needed to see her differently that I felt so strongly. “It’s you who are defrauded. There are bigger things in our women than just the pursuit of pleasure. However,” I broke off, with a sudden laugh, “I am just as absurd to be talking to you like this!”
“I wanted to go over there and nurse,” she said, looking down. “Heavens, don’t you think I’m tired of this sort of life!”
“I wonder just how sincere that is,” I said, watching her with amusement. “Service, or—adventure?”
She sat up, suddenly frowning.