She dropped her voice almost to a whisper, and added: "You are the first

man who has not praised and flattered me."

"I was not thinking of you," he said. "I was thinking of another, and

perhaps of the poor working women who, in a world of luxury, have to

struggle and starve."

She looked up, and a half-smile crossed her face.

"I honour you for that," she said. "And perhaps if I had earlier met a

man like you my life might have been different. I used to hope for such

things long ago--that a man of high aims and noble purposes would come

to meet me at the gate of life. Perhaps you have felt like that--that

some woman, strong and true, would stand beside you for good or for ill,

in your hour of danger and your hour of joy?"

Her voice was not quite steady--she hardly knew why.

"A dream! We all have our dreams," he said.

"A dream indeed! Men came--he was not among them. They pampered every

wish, indulged every folly, loaded me with luxuries, but my dream was

dispelled. I respected few of them, and reverenced none. They were my

pastime, my playthings. And they have revenged themselves by saying in

secret ... what you said in public this morning."

He was looking at her constantly with his wistful eyes, the eyes of a

child, and through all the joy of her success she was conscious of a

spasm of pain at the expression of his sad face and the sound of his

tremulous voice.

"We men are much to blame," he said. "In the battle of man with man we

deal out blows and think we are fighting fair, but we forget that behind

our foe there is often a woman--a wife, a mother, a sister, a

friend--and, God forgive us, we have struck her, too."

The half-smile that had gleamed on Roma's face was wiped out of it by

these words, and an emotion she did not understand began to surge in her

throat.

"You speak of poor women who struggle and starve," she said. "Would it

surprise you to hear that I know what it is to do that? Yes, and to be

friendless and alone--quite, quite alone in a cruel and wicked city."

She had lost herself for a moment, and the dry glitter in her eyes had

given way to a moistness and a solemn expression. But at the next

instant she had regained her self-control, and went on speaking to avoid

a painful silence.




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