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Updated: May 5, 2025
I tried talking reason, but talking to Robin when she has got a notion in her head is like trying to fix a halter on a two-year-old colt. This tumble-down, six-roomed cottage was to be the saving of the family. An ecstatic look transfigured Robina's face even as she spoke of it. You might have fancied it a shrine. Robina would do the cooking.
But not the little girl I had in my mind. So I missed you, thinking of the little girl you were not. We do that all our lives, Robina. We are always looking for the flowers that do not grow, passing by, trampling underfoot, the blossoms round about us. It was the same with Dick. I wanted a naughty boy. Well, Dick was naughty, no one can say that he was not. But it was not my naughtiness.
What I'm impressing upon you is that the human race has yet a little way to travel before the average man can be regarded as an up-to-date edition of King Arthur the King Arthur of the poetical legend, I mean. Don't be too impatient with him." "Thinking what a beast he has been ought to make him impatient himself with himself," considered Robina.
'O Lance! but that was persecution! cried Robina. 'Who would have thought you went through things like that? 'Ay, said Bill, 'you believed in the little cherub chorister boys, that sing and look out of their great violet eyes, till they die of declines.
Yet to listen to Robina and her like you might think we had not sense enough to run ourselves, as the saying is let alone running the universe. If I would let her, Robina would sit and give me information by the hour. "The ordinary girl . . . " Robina will begin, with the air of a University Extension Lecturer. It is so exasperating. As if I did not know all there is to be known about girls!
'I know, said Robina, looking up into those kind eyes. 'I want to tell you but she panted, and he encouraged her by putting his other hand over hers caressingly. 'Edgar comes every Sunday, came out at last. 'And what of that? Isn't it a pleasure? 'It it would be but he and Alice ought not to send each other notes and messages. 'What? very low. 'Indeed they do; and I can't tell what to do.
"Nothing like being satisfied with oneself," said Robina. "I'm not satisfied," I said; "I'm only hopeful. But it irritates me when I hear people talk as though man had been born a white-souled angel and was making supernatural efforts to become a sinner. That seems to me the way to discourage him. What he wants is bucking up; somebody to say to him, 'Bravo! why, this is splendid!
Robina seized her by the shoulders and shook her back into herself. "If it had been yours," said Robina, "you would deserve to have been sent to bed." "Well, then, why don't he go to bed?" argued Veronica. Robina took her by the arm and walked her up and down just underneath my window. I listened, because the conversation interested me.
The livery stable proprietor had suggested a brougham, but that would have necessitated one of us riding outside. I explained to Robina that, in the country, this was usual; and Robina had replied that much depended upon first impressions. Dick would, in all probability, claim the place for himself; and, the moment we were started, stick a pipe in his mouth.
Robina said she didn't; but I know quite well she did. Because I am an author, and have to tell stories for my living, people think I don't know any truth. It is vexing enough to be doubted when one is exaggerating; to have sneers flung at one by one's own kith and kin when one is struggling to confine oneself to bald, bare narrative well, where is the inducement to be truthful?
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