The death of love had been so gradual that she had not noticed it in
time for decent obsequies; she had not sent a regret in its wake....She had
had enough left, more than many women who had made the same blind plunge
into the barbed wire maze of matrimony....And now she had nothing. She
would have liked to drive right out on to a liner about to sail through the
Golden Gate...but she would no doubt have to live on...and on...in changed,
possibly humble, conditions...despising the man she must meet sometime
every day....Yes, she did wish she never had been born.
CHAPTER VIII
I
She concluded, while she dressed for dinner, that she must be a coward.
Alexina was far from satisfied with herself as she was; she would have
liked to possess a great talent like Gora, or be an intellectual power in
the world of some sort. She was far from stultification by the national
gift of complacence, careless self-satisfaction--racial rather than
individual...qualities that have made the United States lag far behind the
greater European nations in all but material development and a certain
inventiveness; both of which in some cases are outclassed in the older
world.
A California woman of her mother's generation had become a great and
renowned archaeologist and lived romantically in a castle in the City of
Mexico. She bad often wished, since her serious mental life had begun, that
this gift had descended upon her--the donee had also been a member of
the A.
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