Launa laughed, and said, “Go on.”
“If I love a man I shall not care what he has—past, present, anything, if he loves me. I would like one man to really love me.”
“You have been married,” suggested Launa.
“But not loved. My husband was nice; we never quarrelled, but we never made it up. Nice men do not love women; they ask us to marry them, to be mothers to their children. Devils love us and often leave us.”
For some time there was silence.
“You like Mr. Herbert?” again asked Mrs. Phillips.
“He wants to marry you,” said Launa.
“He thinks he does. I am afraid of marriage. I am four-and-twenty and I feel fifty; he is thirty and seems twenty.”
“If I were a man,” said Launa, “I would love you. You are not merely beautiful; you are more—not only attractive, you will never grow old.”
“Thank you, dear,” said Mrs. Phillips; “that is a compliment.”