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"Oh, well," said Kŭt-o-yĭs´, "you can go and breed snakes so there will be more. The people will not be afraid of little snakes." "So you think now; but by and by you will find the pressure too great, and you will go with the tide. If I were to work for years and years, I could scarcely at the end achieve a position fit to offer you. And I am thirty-two, remember,—not a boy beginning life, with all the world and time before him,—and you are only twenty. By what right should I sacrifice your youth, your prospects? Some other man, some one more fortunate, may perhaps——" "She is decidedly good to look at, at all events," says Nicholas, shifting ground. "Don't you think so, Violet?".
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"Do not take her away yet,—not yet," he says, in a faint whisper. For the first time Mona learns she is not like this well-regulated young woman. She falls lamentably short of such excellence. She cannot bring herself to think the world of those she loves well lost for any consideration whatever. And after all—this horrid condition—it would be over in a moment. And she could run home with the coveted paper, and bathe her face in sweet cold water. And then again she shudders. Could she bathe the remembrance of the insult from her heart? He is now speaking with some difficulty, and is looking, not at her, but at the pattern he is drawing on the soft loam at his feet. It is an old song she chooses, and simple as old, and sweet as simple. I almost forget the words now, but I know it runs in this wise:.
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