fate is theirs, if they don't manage to catch a man! Gossip and
needlework are only slow poison."

"Now you're spiteful. But I'll tell YOU something. Such friendships as
you speak of are only possible where the woman is old--or ugly--or
abnormal, in some way: a man-woman, or a clever woman, or some other
freak of nature. Now, our women are, as a rule, sexually healthy. They
know what they're here for, too, and are not ashamed of it. Also, they
still have their share of physical attraction. While yours--good God! I
wonder you manage to keep the breed going!"

"Stop, Heinz!" said Madeleine sternly. "You are illogical, and
indecent; and you know there's a limit I don't choose to let you
pass.--You're wrong, too. You've only to look about you, here, with
unbiassed eyes, to see which race the prettiest girls belong to.--But
never mind! You only launch out in this way that you may not be obliged
to discuss Maurice Guest. I know you. I can read you like a book."

"You are not very old ... or ugly ... or abnormal, Mada."

She smiled in spite of herself. "And are we not friends, pray?"

"Something that way.--But in all you say about Guest, the impersonal
note is wanting. You're jealous."

"I'm nothing of the sort!--But you'll at least allow me to resent
seeing a friend of mine in the claws of this ... this vampire?"

Krafft laughed. "Vampire is good!--A poor, distraught--"

"Spare your phrases, Heinz. She's bad through and through, and stupid
into the bargain."

"Lulu stupid? EI, EI, Mada! Your eyes are indeed askew. She has a touch
of the other extreme--of genius."

"NA!--Well, if this is another of your manifestations of genius, then
permit me to hate--no, to loathe it, in all its forms."

"GANZ NACH BELIEBEN! It's a privilege of your sex, you know. There
never was a woman yet who didn't prefer a good, square talent."

"A crack this way, and it's madness; that, and the world says genius.
And some people have a peculiar gift for discovering it. Those who set
themselves to it can find genius in a flea's jump."

"But has it never occurred to you, that the power of loving--that some
women have a genius for loving?--No, why do I ask! For if I am a book,
you are a poster--a placard."

"What a people you are for words! You make phrases about everything.
That's a ridiculous thing to say. If every fickle woman--"

"Fickle woman! fickle fiddle-sticks!" he interrupted. "That's only a
tag. The people whose business it is