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Updated: July 7, 2025
All day I laid in the bunk reading the' Woman-Hater, the grandest book Charlie Reade ever wrote, an' pickin' a toothful here an' there. It was weary, weary work. Eight days, man, I was aboard the Grotkau, an' not one full meal did I make. Sma' blame her crew would not stay by her. The other man? Oh I warked him wi' a vengeance to keep him warm.
"What's that she said?" "She says," translated the obliging and gifted Wallie, "that monsieur is a woman-hater." "My God! I thought she didn't understand English!" "She doesn't. But she's a woman. Not only that, she's a French woman. They don't need to know a language to understand it." "Where did you get that, h'm? That wasn't included in your Berlitz course, was it?"
She sent me back my ring one day and with it a message saying she had ceased to care for me and bidding me never to try to look upon her face again. Well, I have obeyed her, that is all." "There was something strange about all that, Walter. The life she has since led proves that. So you should not let it embitter you against all women." "I haven't. It's nonsense to say I'm a woman-hater, Augusta.
I'm going next year, though, when I'm ten. I have holidays now. Mr. Burroughs always goes away the first of June." "How came he to tell you your uncle was a woman-hater?" persisted the lady. "Oh, he didn't tell me. He was talking to a friend of his. He thought I was reading my book. So I was but I heard it all. It was more interesting than my book.
How can I send you my portrait? My kind regards to your wife. I, alas! have none. One alone I wished to possess, but never shall I call her mine! This, however, has not made me a woman-hater. Your true friend, We read: "My father's idea was that marriage alone could remedy the sad condition of Beethoven's household matters; so he asked him whether he knew any one, &c., &c.
He had not meant to make such an offer or promise, but Fate had tricked him into it, and he could not, as a gentleman, back out altogether. He had been compelled to give her one lesson. But he need not give her another. He need not meet her again. He would not. He would keep the agreement with Seth and forget the tenants of the bungalow altogether. Good old Atkins! Good old Seth, the woman-hater!
His foolishness as a prophet consists, not in his suspicions of woman regarded as an animal, but in his frothing at the mouth at the idea that she should claim to be treated as something higher than an animal. None the less, he denied to the end that he was a woman-hater. His denial, however, was grimly unflattering:
I know that women are all humbugs; only you are a humbug reversed, and deserve a statue and trimmings. You have been passing yourself off for a naughty girl, and all the time you were an extra good one." "And that puzzles the woman-hater, the cynical student, who says he has fathomed woman.
Had he avoided the girls persistently and obviously, he might have interested them intensely, for nothing is more difficult for a woman to understand than a woman-hater; and from the days of mother Eve the unknown is rumored to have had for her sex a powerful fascination. But he tried to win their friendship by humbleness and kindness, and so only made himself the more cheap in their eyes.
I could read the future so plainly. What but one thing could happen after Mortimer had influenced Betty's imagination with his stories of his friend's romantic career, and added the finishing touch by advertising him as a woman-hater? He might just as well have asked for his ring back at once. My heart bled for Mortimer.
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