n, at least--and he
led a man's life before he was married!"

"Laura!"

"_You_ can't see it in him--_but I can_!"

"You'll say not a word to him, not one word! He has had enough this year as
it is!"

"Has he? Then I'm sorry! If _you_ were any help to me--instead of acting
like a nun--"

"Will you please stop talking like a fool?"

"I'm not! I'm speaking the truth and you know it! You know no more about
love like mine than a nun of the middle ages! You needn't tell me about
Allan Baird. You think you're in love with him, don't you? Well then, I'll
tell you that you're not--your love is the kind that can wait for
years--because it's cold, it's cold, it's cold--it's all in your mind and
your reason! And so I say you're no help to me now! Here--look at yourself
in the glass over there! You're just plain angry--frightened!"

"Yes--I am--I'm frightened." While she strove to think clearly, to form
some plan, she let her young sister talk rapidly on:

"I know you are! And you can't be fair! You're like nearly all American
women--married or single, young or old--you're all of you scared to death
about sex--just as your Puritan mothers were! And you leave it alone--you
keep it down--you never give it a chance--you're afraid! But I'm not
afraid--and I'm living my life! And let me tell you I'm not alone! There
are hundreds and thousands doing the same--right here in New York City
to-night! It's been so abroad for years and years--in Rome and Berlin, in
Paris and London--and now, thank God, it has come over here! If our
husbands can do it, why can't we? And we are--we're starting--it's come
with the war! You think war is hell and nothing else, don't you--but you're
wrong! It's not only killing men--it's killing a lot of hypocrisies
too--it's giving a jolt to marriage! You'll see what the women will do soon
enough--when there aren't enough men any longer--"

"Suppose you stop this tirade and tell me exactly what you've done,"
Deborah interrupted. A simple course of action had just flashed into her
mind.

"All right, I will. I'm not ashamed. I've given you this 'tirade' to show
you exactly how I feel--that it's not any question of sin or guilt or any
musty old rubbish like that! I know I'm right! I know just what I'm doing!"

"Who's the man? That Italian?"

"Yes."

"Where is he?"

"Right here in New York."

"Does he mean to stand by you?"

"Of course he does."

"Will he marry you, Laura?"

"Yes, he will--the m