anted to see anything more that he could
show her. He had shown her a great deal while he sat there, especially
what balderdash he thought it--the whole idea of women's being equal to
men. He seemed to have come only for that, for he was all the while
revolving round it; she couldn't speak of anything but what he brought
it back to the question of some new truth like that. He didn't say so in
so many words; on the contrary, he was tremendously insinuating and
satirical, and pretended to think she had proved all and a great deal
more than she wanted to prove; but his exaggeration, and the way he rung
all the changes on two or three of the points she had made at Mrs.
Burrage's, were just the sign that he was a scoffer of scoffers. He
wouldn't do anything but laugh; he seemed to think that he might laugh
at her all day without her taking offence. Well, he might if it amused
him; but she didn't see why she should ramble round New York with him to
give him his opportunity.

She had told him, and she had told Olive, that she was determined to
produce some effect on him; but now, suddenly, she felt differently
about that--she ceased to care whether she produced any effect or not.
She didn't see why she should take him so seriously, when he wouldn't
take her so; that is, wouldn't take her ideas. She had guessed before
that he didn't want to discuss them; this had been in her mind when she
said to him at Cambridge that his interest in her was personal, not
controversial. Then she had simply meant that, as an inquiring young
Southerner, he had wanted to see what a bright New England girl was
like; but since then it had become a little more clear to her--her short
talk with Ransom at Mrs. Burrage's threw some light upon the
question--what the personal interest of a young Southerner (however
inquiring merely) might amount to. Did he too want to make love to her?
This idea made Verena rather impatient, weary in advance. The thing she
desired least in the world was to be put into the wrong with Olive; for
she had certainly given her ground to believe (not only in their scene
the night before, which was a simple repetition, but all along, from the
very first) that she really had an interest which would transcend any
attraction coming from such a source as that. If yesterday it seemed to
her that she should like to struggle with Mr. Ransom, to refute and
convince him, she had this morning gone into the parlour to receive him
with the i