Burned Bridges by Bertrand W. Sinclair (win 10 ebook reader .TXT) 📖
- Author: Bertrand W. Sinclair
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Eyes Glowed With Some Queer Repressed Feeling. Carr Sat Gazing Silently
At Her While She Continued To Look After The Vanished Canoe Whose
Passing Left Tiny Swirls On The Dark, Sluggish Current Of Lone Moose.
Presently Carr Gave The Faintest Shrug Of His Lean Shoulders And Resumed
The Reading Of His Book.
When He Looked Up From The Page Again After A Considerable Interval The
Girl's Eyes Were Fixed Intently Upon His Face, With A Queer Questioning
Expression In Them, A Mute Appeal. He Closed His Book With A Forefinger
Inserted To Mark The Place, And Leaned Forward A Trifle.
"What Is It, Sophie?" He Asked Gently. "Eh?"
The Girl, Like Her Father, And For That Matter The Majority Of Those
Chapter 1 (The First Problem) Pg 5Who Dwelt In That Region, Wore Moccasins. She Sat Now, Rubbing The Damp,
Bead-Decorated Toe Of One On Top Of The Other, Her Hands Resting Idle In
The Lap Of Her Cotton Dress. She Seemed Scarcely To Hear, But Carr
Waited Patiently. She Continued To Look At Him With That Peculiar,
Puzzled Quality In Her Eyes.
"Tommy Ashe Wants Me To Marry Him," She Said At Last.
The Faint Flush On Her Smooth Cheeks Deepened. The Glow In Her Eyes Gave
Way Altogether To That Vaguely Troubled Expression.
Carr Stroked His Short Beard Reflectively.
"Well," He Said At Length, "Seeing That Human Nature's What It Is, I
Can't Say I'm Surprised Any More Than I Would Be Surprised At The Trees
Leafing Out In Spring. And, As It Happens, Tommy Observed The
Conventions Of His Class In This Matter. He Asked Me About It A Few Days
Ago. I Referred Him To You. Are You Going To?"
"I Don't Know, Dad," She Murmured.
"Do You Want To?" He Pursued The Inquiry In A Detached, Impersonal Tone.
"I Don't Know," She Repeated Soberly. "I Like Tommy A Lot. When I'm With
Him I Feel Sure I'd Be Perfectly Happy To Be Always With Him. When I'm
Away From Him, I'm Not So Sure."
"In Other Words," Carr Observed Slowly, "Your Reason And Your Emotions
Are Not In Harmony On That Subject. Eh? So Far As Tommy Ashe Goes, Your
Mind And Your Body Pull You Two Different Ways."
She Looked At Him A Little More Keenly.
"Perhaps," She Said. "I Know What You Mean. But I Don't Clearly See Why
It Should Be So. Either I Love Tommy Ashe, Or I Don't, And I Should Know
Which, Shouldn't I? The First And Most Violent Manifestation Of Love Is
Mostly Physical, Isn't It? I've Always Understood That. You've Pointed
It Out. I Do Like Tommy. Why Should My Mind Act As A Brake On My
Feelings?"
"Because You Happen To Be Made The Way You Are," Carr Returned
Thoughtfully. "As I've Told You A Good Many Times, You've Grown Up A
Good Deal Different From The Common Run Of Girls. We've Been Isolated.
Lacking The Time-Occupying Distractions And Pleasures Of Youth In A More
Liberal Environment, Sophie, You've Been Thrown Back On Yourself And Me
And Books, And As A Result You've Cultivated A Natural Tendency To
_Think_. Most Young Women Don't. They're Seldom Taught Any Rational
Process Of Arriving At Conclusions. You Have Developed That Faculty. It
Has Been My Pride And Pleasure To Cultivate In You What I Believed To Be
A Decided Mentality. I've Tried To Show You How To Get Down To
Fundamentals, To Work Out A Philosophy Of Life That's Really Workable.
Knowledge Is Worth Having For Its Own Sake. Once You Find Yourself In
Contact With The World--And For You That Time Is Bound To Come--You'll
Apply All The Knowledge You've Absorbed To Problems As They Arise. If
There's A Rational Solution To Any Situation That Faces You, You'll Make
An Effort To Find That Solution. You'll Do It Almost Instinctively. You
Chapter 1 (The First Problem) Pg 6Can't Help It. Your Brain Is Too Alert Ever To Let You Act Blindly. At
The Present Your Lack Of Experience Probably Handicaps You A Little. In
Human Relations You Have Nothing Much But Theory, Got From The Books
You've Digested And The Way We've Always Discussed Every Possible Angle
Of Life. Take Tommy Ashe. He's Practically The First Young, Attractive
White Man You've Ever Met, The Very First Possibility As A Lover.
Tommy's A Nice Boy, A Pleasant, Sunny-Natured Young Fellow. Personally
He's Just The Sort Of Fellow That Would Sweep A Simple Country Girl
Clean Off Her Feet. With You, Your Mind, As You Just Put It, Acts As A
Brake On Your Feelings. Can't You Guess Why?"
"No," She Said Quietly. "I Can't. I Don't Understand Myself And My
Shifts Of Feeling. It Makes Me Miserable."
"Look Here, Sophie Girl," Carr Reached Over And Taking Her By The Hand
Drew Her Up On The Low Arm Of His Chair, "You're Asking Yourself A More
Or Less Important Question Directly, And You're Asking It Of Me
Indirectly. Maybe I Can Help You. At Least I Can Tell How I See It. You
Have All Your Life Before You. You Want To Be Happy. That's A Universal
Human Attribute. Sometime Or Other You're Going To Mate With A Man. That
Too Is A Universal Experience. Ordinary Mating Is Based On Sex Instinct.
Love Is Mostly An Emotional Disturbance Generated By Natural Causes For
Profoundly Natural And Important Ends. But Marriage And The Intimate
Associations Of Married Life Require Something More Substantial Than A
Mere Flare-Up Of Animal Instinct. Lots Of Men And Women Aren't Capable
Of Anything Else, And Consequently They Make The Best Of What's In
Them. But There Are Natures Far More Complex. You, Sophie, Are One Of
Those Complex Natures. With You, A Union Based On Sex Alone Wouldn't
Survive Six Months. Now, In This Particular Case, Leaving Out The Fact
That You Can't Compare Tommy Ashe With Any Other Man, Because You Don't
Know Any Other Man, Can You Conceive Yourself Living In A Tolerable
State Of Contentment With Tommy If, Say, You Didn't Feel Any More
Passion For Him Than You Feel For, Say, Old Standing Wolf Over There?"
"But That's Absurd," The Girl Declared. "Because I Have Got That Feeling
For Tommy Ashe, And Therefore I Can't Imagine Myself In Any Other State.
I Can't Look At It The Cold-Blooded Way You Do, Daddy Dear."
"I'm Stating A Hypothetical Case," Carr Went On Patiently. "You Do Now.
We'll Take That For Granted. Would You Still Have Anything Fundamental
In Common With Tommy With That Part Left Out? Suppose You Got So You
Didn't Care Whether He Kissed You Or Not? Suppose It Were No Longer A
Physical Pleasure Just To Be Near Him. Would You Enjoy His Daily And
Hourly Presence Then, In The Most Intimate Relation A Man And A Woman
Can Hold To Each Other?"
"Why, I Wouldn't Live With Him At All," The Girl Said Positively. "I
Simply Couldn't. I Know."
"You Might Have To," Carr Answered Gently. "You Have Never Yet Run Foul
Of Circumstances Over Which You Have No More Power Than Man Has Over The
Run Of The Tides. But We'll Let That Pass. I'm Trying To Help You,
Sophie, Not To Discourage You. There Are Some Situations In Which, And
Some Natures To Whom, Half A Loaf Is Worse Than No Bread. Do You Feel,
Have You Ever For An Hour Felt That You Simply Couldn't Face An
Existence In Which Tommy Ashe Had No Part?"
Sophie Put Her Arm Around His Neck, And Her Nt Of The
Chapter 1 (The First Problem) Pg 7Ball At Mrs. White's Last Night, Where All The Beauty And Fashion Of New
York Was Assembled; With The Sewer's Own Particulars Of The Private
Lives Of All The Ladies That Were There. Here's The Sewer! Here's The
Sewer's Exposure Of The Wall Street Gang, And The Sewer's Exposure Of
The Washington Gang, And The Sewer's Exclusive Account Of A Flagrant
Act Of Dishonesty Committed By The Secretary Of State When He Was Eight
Years Old; Now Communicated, At Great Expense, By His Own Nurse. Here's
The Sewer! Here's The New York Sewer In Its Twelfth Thousand, With A
Whole Column Of New Yorkers To Be Shown Up, And All Their Names Printed.
Here's The Sewer's Article Upon The Judge That Tried Him, Day Afore
Yesterday, For Libel, And The Sewer's Tribute To The Independent Jury
That Didn't Convict Him, And The Sewer's Account Of What Might Have
Happened If They Had! Here's The Sewer, Always On The Lookout; The
Leading Journal Of The United States!"
Such Were The Cries, According To The Veracious Account Of Charles
Dickens, Who Had Paid His First Visit To Us A Short Time Before, That
Greeted The Ears Of Martin Chuzzlewit Upon His Arrival In The Gate City
Of The Western World. That Amiable Caricature Reflects What The English
Novelist Thought Or Pretended To Think, Of The New York Journalism Of
The Day. Exaggeration, Of Course: The Bad Manners Of A Young Genius Of
The British Lower Middle Classes. But Quite Good-Naturedly Today We
Concede That Beneath Bad Manners And Exaggeration There Was A Foundation
Of Truth. Into The Making Of Colonel Diver, The Editor Of The "Rowdy
Journal," May Have Gone A Little Of Old Noah, Of The "Star," Or James
Watson Webb, Of The "Courier And Enquirer," Or Colonel Stone, Of The
"Commercial." Can't You See Those Grim Figures Of An Old World Strutting
Down Broadway, Glaring About Belligerently And Suspiciously? Almost
Every Editor Of That Period Had A Theatre Feud At One Day Or Another. On
The Luckless Mummer Who Had Incurred His Displeasure He Poured Out The
Vials Of His Wrath. He Incited Audiences To Riot. Against His Brother
Editors He Hurled Such Epithets As "Loathsome And Leprous Slanderer And
Libeller," "Pestilential Scoundrel," "Polluted Wretch," "Foul Jaws,"
"Common Bandit," "Prince Of Darkness," "Turkey Buzzard," "Ghoul."
Somehow, In Thinking Of The Old Days, I Find It Hard To Reconcile Those
Men And Women Who Lived Under The Knickerbocker Sway With Their
Newspapers. It Is Pleasanter To Dwell Upon The Old Customs, To Picture
Mr. Manhattan Leaving The Scurrilous Sheet Behind Him When He Departed
From His Store Or Counting House, And Repairing With Clean Hands To The
Wife Of His Bosom And His Family, Somewhere In Greenwich Village, Or
Richmond Hill, Or Bond Street, Or The Beginnings Of Fifth Avenue.
But To Revert To The Manners Of The Old Town. First Of All There Was The
Business Of Getting Married. It Was With An Idea Of Permanency Then, And
The Knickerbocker Wedding Was, In Consequence, A Ceremony.
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