.."
"All rot--Sesame and Lilies," interrupted Dunkerley. "Read
bits. Couldn't stand it. Never _can_ stand Ruskin. Too many
prepositions. Tremendous English, no doubt, but not my style. Sort of
thing a wholesale grocer's daughter might read to get refined. _We_
can't afford to get refined."
"But would you really marry a girl ...?" began Lewisham, with an
unprecedented admiration for Dunkerley in his eyes.
"Why not?"
"On--?" Lewisham hesitated.
"Forty pounds a year _res_. Whack! Yes."
A silent youngster began to speak, cleared an accumulated huskiness
from his throat and said, "Consider the girl."
"Why _marry_?" asked Bletherley, unregarded.
"You must admit you are asking a great thing when you want a girl ..."
began Parkson.
"Not so. When a girl's chosen a man, and he chooses her, her place is
with him. What is the good of hankering? Mutual. Fight together."
"Good!" said Lewisham, suddenly emotional. "You talk like a man,
Dunkerley. I'm hanged if you don't."
"The place of Woman," insisted Parkson, "is the Home. And if there is
no home--! I hold that, if need be, a man should toil seven years--as
Jacob did for Rachel--ruling his passions, to make the home fitting
and sweet for her ..."
"Get the hutch for the pet animal," said Dunkerley.
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