He stared. "You——?"
She nodded. "I haven't mentioned it to any one. One's family is so hampering sometimes—they'd all object—except Aunt Isabelle, but I want to be prepared to work, if I ever need to earn my living."
"May you never need it," he said, fervently, visions rising of little Miss Terry and her machine-made personality. What had this girl with the fair hair and the shining eyes to do with the blank life between office walls?
"May you never need it," he repeated. "A woman's place is in the home—it's a man's place to fight the world."
"But if there isn't a man to fight a woman's battles?"
"There will always be some one to fight yours."
"You mean that I can—marry? But what if I don't care to marry merely to be—supported?"
"There would have to be other things, of course," gravely.
"What, for example?"
"Love."