But custom to her was as inexorable as life. If she chose to live
in the world she must conform to its customs. For a woman marriage was the
aim and the end and the all of existence. Nevertheless, for Carley it could
not be without love. Before she had gone West she might have had many of
the conventional modern ideas about women and marriage. But because out
there in the wilds her love and perception had broadened, now her
arraignment of herself and her sex was bigger, sterner, more exacting. The
months she had been home seemed fuller than all the months of her life. She
had tried to forget and enjoy; she had not succeeded; but she had looked
with far-seeing eyes at her world. Glenn Kilbourne's tragic fate had opened
her eyes.
Either the world was all wrong or the people in it were. But if that were
an extravagant and erroneous supposition, there certainly was proof
positive that her own small individual world was wrong. The women did not
do any real work; they did not bear children; they lived on excitement and
luxury. They had no ideals. How greatly were men to blame? Carley doubted
her judgment here. But as men could not live without the smiles and
comradeship and love of women, it was only natural that they should give
the women what they wanted.
Pages:
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245