"And why the devil they don't make up their
minds to it is beyond me. That brother of yours is the limit sometimes.
I'm fond of him--you know it--but he certainly can be the limit
sometimes."
"Do you know," said Nina, "that I believe he is in love with her?"
"Then, why doesn't--"
"I don't know. I was sure--I am sure now--that the girl cares more for
him than for anybody. And yet--and yet I don't believe she is actually
in love with him. Several times I supposed she was--or near it, anyway.
. . . But they are a curious pair, Austin--so quaint about it; so slow
and old-fashioned. . . . And the child is the most innocent being--in
some ways. . . . Which is all right unless she becomes one of those
pokey, earnest, knowledge-absorbing young things with the very germ of
vitality dried up and withered in her before she awakens. . . . I don't
know--I really don't. For a girl _must_ have something of the human
about her to attract a man, and be attracted. . . . Not that she need
know anything about love--or even suspect it.
Pages:
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566