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Updated: May 24, 2025
Sam Gwent was one of these, and though he had attended many such functions before, he was more curiously impressed than usual by the unctuous and barefaced hypocrisy of the whole thing the smiling humbug of the officiating clergy, the affected delight of the "society" toadies fluttering like wasps round bride and bride-groom as though they were sweet dishes specially for stinging insects to feed upon, and in his mind he seemed to hear the warm, passionate voice of Manella in frank admission of her love for Seaton.
He threw out his hands with a gesture that was almost tragic, and such an expression came into his face of savagery and tenderness commingled that Manella retreated from him in vague terror. "I want her!" he repeated "And why? Not to 'love' her, but to break her wings, for she, unlike a silkworm moth, knows how to use them! I want her, to make her proud mind bend to MY will and way!
And therefore she did not know that "fey" women are a race apart from all other women in the world. That evening at sunset Manella made her way towards the hill and the "House of the Dying," moved by she knew not what strange impulse.
To live, as you say, for husband and children would make a woman a slave a great many women are slaves but they are beginning to get emancipated the woman with the gold hair, whom you so much admire, is emancipated." Manella gave a slight disdainful movement of her head. "That only means she is free to do as she likes" she said "To marry or not to marry to love or not to love.
I am full of odd whims and fancies, and I like to humour myself in my various ways. I think I wanted to see a bit of California, that's all!" "Then why not see more of it?" persisted Manella. "Enough is better than too much!" laughed Morgana "I am easily bored! This Plaza hotel would bore me to death! What do you want me to stay for? To see your man on the mountain?" "No!"
"Oh, it is no trouble!" and Manella smiled at him in the most ravishing way "The path is quite easy to follow." She preceded him out of the "floral hall," and across the great gardens, now in their most brilliant bloom to a gate which she opened, pointing with one hand towards the hill where the flat outline of the "hut of the dying" could be seen clear against the sky.
Manella was a splendid type of primitive womanhood, healthy, warm-blooded and full of hymeneal passion, as a wife she would have been devoted, as a mother superb in her tenderness; but, measured by modern standards of advanced and restless femininity she was a mere drudge, without the ability to think for herself or to analyse subtleties of emotion.
As for Manella, he had not seen her since her last violent outburst of what he called "temper" and he had no wish for her presence.
I should like you to come with me out of these mountain solitudes into the world! What is your name?" "Manella." "Manella what?" "Manella Soriso" the girl answered "I am Spanish by both parents, they are dead now. I was born at Monterey." Morgana began to hum softly "Under the walls of Monterey At dawn the bugles began to play Come forth to thy death Victor Galbraith." She broke off, then said
"Of course it would!" Manella averred "If you wanted one, which I daresay you don't. For all I know, you may be like the man who is living in the consumption hut on the hill, he ought to have a woman, but he doesn't want one." Morgana buttered her little breakfast roll very delicately.
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