'
I was rather startled at this suggestion, which somehow hinted
disregard for the unconscious Henry.
'I think I must lack charm,' went on Marion in a choked voice. 'Who
was it described charm as a--a--sort of a bloom on a woman, and said if
she had that she didn't need anything else?'
'It was Barrie,' I said, stroking her hair, 'but don't take any notice
of him, dear.'
'It's just what a man would say. Oh, Netta, why is life so hard to a
woman? Why must she always be the one to stifle her feelings, repress
her natural instincts, wait for man to take the lead? Why can't she be
the leading spirit if she wishes, without being humiliated? Why
shouldn't women propose?'
'That's just what I've been writing about,' I said involuntarily.
She raised her head from my shoulder. 'And what did you say about it?'
'I held that a woman can--er--oh, hang it all, never mind what I
_wrote_ about it. What I _say_ is that of course they ought to propose
if they want to. There should be perfect equality of the sexes.'
'Well, if there was,' put in Marion, her practical common sense coming
to her aid, 'it wouldn't after all make a man want to marry me just
because it was I who put the question. It's no use, Netta. I'm a born
old maid. I've got to go through life heart-hungry, loving other
people's babies instead of my own, and stepping aside to let all the
fair things go past me.
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