Can a man or a woman get
anywhere without being able to be what you call 'hard' and
what I call 'strong'?"

"Where do _you_ want to get?" demanded he.

She disregarded his question, to finish saying what was in her
mind--what she was saying rather to give herself a clear look
at her own thoughts and purposes than to enlighten him about
them. "I'm not a sheltered woman," pursued she. "I've got no
one to save me from the consequences of doing nice, sweet,
womanly things."

"You've got me," said he angrily.

"But why lean if I'm strong enough to stand alone? Why weaken
myself just to gratify your mania for owning and bossing? But
let me finish what I was saying. I never got any quarter
because I was a woman. No woman does, as a matter of fact;
and in the end, the more she uses her sex to help her shirk,
the worse her punishment is. But in my case----

"I was brought up to play the weak female, to use my sex as my
shield. And that was taken from me and--I needn't tell _you_
how I was taught to give and take like a man--no, not like a
man--for no man ever has to endure what a woman goes through
if she is thrown on the world. Still, I'm not whining. Now
that it's all over I'm the better for what I've been through.
I've learned to use all a man's weapons and in addition I've
got a woman's."

"As long as your looks last," sneered he.

"That will be longer than yours," said she pleasantly, "if you
keep on with the automobiles and the champagne. And when my
looks are gone, my woman's weapons. . .

"Why, I'll still have the man's weapons left--shan't
I?--knowledge, and the ability to use it."

His expression of impotent fury mingled with compelled
admiration and respect made his face about as unpleasant to
look at as she had ever seen it. But she liked to look. His
confession of her strength made her feel stronger. The sense
of strength was a new sensation with her--new and delicious.
Nor could the feeling that she was being somewhat cruel
restrain her from enjoying it.

"I have never asked quarter," she went on. "I never shall.
If fate gets me down, as it has many a time, why I'll he able
to take my medicine without weeping or whining. I've never
asked pity. I've never asked charity. That's why I'm here,
Freddie--in this apartment, instead of in a filthy tenement
attic--and in these clothes instead of in rags--and with you
respecting me, instead of kicking me toward the gutter. Isn't
that so?"