on't marry him. I doubt if she will ever marry."

"Thank God for that," I said feelingly. She looked up at me quickly.

"You don't like Marcia?" she asked.

"No." I realized that I had gone too far, but I stood firm to my guns.

I was surprised that she didn't resent my frankness. Instead of being
angry she merely smiled.

"Mr. Canby, it is difficult for many of us who live in the world to
realize the effect of luxury and over-refinement upon society! We live
too close to it. Mr. Benham is an anachronism. I would have given much
if he had not become interested in Marcia. She is not for him nor he
for her. But I think it is his mind that attracts her--"

"Rubbish!" I broke in. "Has he no face, no body?"

She smiled at my impetuousness. Strangely enough, we were both too
interested to resent mere forms of intercourse.

"It's true. She has a good mind, but badly trained. His innocence
fascinates, tantalizes her. I've watched them--heard them. She toys
with it, testing it in a hundred ways. It's like nothing she has ever
known before. But she isn't the kind you think she is. I doubt even if
Jerry has kissed her. To Marcia men are merely so much material for
experimentation. She has a reputation for heartlessness. I'm not sure
that she isn't heartless. It's a great pity. She's very young, but
she's already devoured with hypercriticism. She's cynical, a
philanderer. You can't tamper with a passion the way Marcia has done
without doing it an injury. You see, I'm speaking frankly. I don't
quite understand why, but I'm not sorry."

I bowed my head in appreciation of her confidence. This woman improved
upon acquaintance.

"You care for her," I said soberly. "I should have been more guarded."

"Yes, I care for her. She has many virtues. She gets along with women
and I can understand her attraction for men. But she has confessed to
me that men both attract and repel her. Sex-antagonism, I think the
moderns call it--a desire to tease, to attract, to excite, to destroy.
She uses every art to play her game. It is her life. If any man
conquered her she would be miserable. A strange creature, you will
say, but--"

"Strange, unnatural, horrible!"

She smiled at my sober tone.

"And yet she is acting within her rights. She asks nothing that is not
freely given."

"Women are curiously tolerant of moral imperfections in those they
care for. Your Marcia is dangerous. I shall warn Jerry."

But she shook her dark head sagel