. . Nothing wrong with you
women who cannot or will not stand childbirth? Nothing wrong with most of
you, when if you did have a child, you could not nurse it? . . . Oh, my
God, there's nothing wrong with America except that she staggers under a
Titanic burden that only mothers of sons can remove! . . . You doll women,
you parasites, you toys of men, you silken-wrapped geisha girls, you
painted, idle, purring cats, you parody of the females of your species--
find brains enough if you can to see the doom hanging over you and revolt
before it is too late!"
CHAPTER XI
Carley burst in upon her aunt.
"Look at me, Aunt Mary!" she cried, radiant and exultant. "I'm going back
out West to marry Glenn and live his life!"
The keen old eyes of her aunt softened and dimmed. "Dear Carley, I've known
that for a long time. You've found yourself at last."
Then Carley breathlessly babbled her hastily formed plans, every word of
which seemed to rush her onward.
"You're going to surprise Glenn again?" queried Aunt Mary.
"Oh, I must! I want to see his face when I tell him."
"Well, I hope he won't surprise you," declared the old lady. "When did you
hear from him last?"
"In January.
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