Douglas took up this challenge by
saying: "Yes, but who is to decide what is right and what is wrong; or
what is to decide it? The progress of the country or the opinions of
fanatics?" "The minds of big men," retorted Miss Walker. "And since you
have spoken of a great territory for the United States let me bespeak
big men for it instead. Persia you know was a big country." "Why make
the two inconsistent?" asked Douglas. "You can have both." "No, not
where you make material progress the never-ending thought of every one."
Mr. Williams had many things on his mind, that was apparent. His haste
in eating, his self-absorption showed that. Yet after breakfast he
lingered for half an hour; and during this time Miss Walker, who had
noticed me no more up to now than as one of the persons at the table,
came to a seat near me in the living room. She was lovely to look at,
but in a way half prim. The whiteness of her forehead, the fineness of
her hands, her air of clear and quick intellectuality, made her a person
to inspire something of deference. And yet I felt myself captivated by
her. Surely in every thinking man's heart there is a biological groping
toward a woman of mind. Shadowy forms rise undistinguished before him.
They are the children that such a woman can bear. He does not know that
this is the urge; but nature knows.
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