What do I mean to myself or anyone? What have I accomplished? The man I
married is a dummy-husband; means nothing to me nor I to him. I have no
children. Even my housekeeping for Maria is a farce; James really does it
all. I mean nothing to society now that I can no longer entertain it. I
haven't even a decent vice. I don't smoke and gamble like you, nor have
lovers like some of the others. I'm simply a nonentity--nothing!"
"You have personality...beauty...." Aileen was completely at a loss. "I
hate being banal like that Smith idiot...but you are the perfection of a
type. That is something. And you cultivate your mind--"
"My mind! What does it amount to? Anybody can pack a brain. I'd like one of
those that gives out something, however little. But I can't help that. The
point is I don't live. I don't care a hang about personality that doesn't
get anywhere, and I care still less about being a finished type--that's the
work of dead and gone ancestors, anyhow, not mine....I wish I could fall in
love with James Kirkpatrick. I'd feel more justified in my own eyes if I
were living with him over in the Mission--"
"His old mother would chase you out with a broom and use Biblical language.
Of course I know you must be bored, Alex dear. Can't you manage to go
abroad and live for a time?"
"No, I can't, and I don't see what difference that would make. But I'll
tell you what I shall do.
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