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Even their Delias and their Amandas are often the shadows of some real object; for as Shakspeare's experience told him, "Never durst poet touch a pen to write, Until his ink were temper'd with love's sighs." Their imagination is perpetually colouring those pictures of domestic happiness on which they delight to dwell.
Here we are talking instead of going to our dinners. The car has been waiting ten minutes." Amanda, so still, was the most disconcerting of all Amandas.... A strange exaltation seized upon her very suddenly. In an instant she had ceased to plot against him. A vast wave of emotion swept her forward to a resolution that astonished her.
But But there was now also a multitude of other Amandas who had this in common that they roused him to opposition, that they crossed his moods and jarred upon his spirit.
No matter how appearances belie it, it's a fact, nevertheless, that in this crazy world of to-day the sincere, real girl is still appreciated. The frilly Gladys, Gwendolyns and What-nots still have to yield first place to the old-fashioned Rebeccas, Marys and Amandas." Her heart thumped at the words.
Skelmersdale wrought of clean fire, but her sister?... But also beside the inimical aspects which could set such doubts afoot there were in her infinite variety yet other Amandas neither very dear nor very annoying, but for the most part delightful, who entertained him as strangers might, Amandas with an odd twist which made them amusing to watch, jolly Amandas who were simply irrelevant.
She stood quite still staring at him. "I do not know how I can tell you of it. Amanda, do you remember those bodies you saw those bodies those mutilated men?" "I saw them," said Amanda. "Well. Is it nothing to you that those things happen?" "They must happen." "No. They happen because there are no kings but pitiful kings. They happen because the kings love their Amandas and do not care."
And these and all the other Amandas agreed together to develop and share this one quality in common, that altogether they pointed to no end, they converged on nothing. She was, it grew more and more apparent, a miscellany bound in a body. She was an animated discursiveness.
They will need no protector but their own courage, no guide but their own good sense and Yankee wit, and no interpreter, if that woman's best gift, the tongue, has a little French polish on it. Dear Amandas, Matildas, and Lavinias, why delay? Wait on no man, but take your little store and invest it in something far better than Paris finery, Geneva jewellery, or Roman relics.
He knew you had probably not heard of it and saw a chance to make you jealous." "I'd like to wring his neck," said Martin, grinning. "But since it turned out like this for me I'll forgive him. I don't care how many Amandas he marries if he leaves me mine."
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