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Elisha Cuthbert Photos Books: Martin Eden The Pickwick Papers The Sea Wolf |
that way. I guess the real facts is
that I dont know nothin much about such things. It aint in my class.
But Im goin to make it in my class."
It sounded like a threat. His voice was determined, his eyes were
flashing, the lines of his face had grown harsh. And to her it seemed
that the angle of his jaw had changed; its pitch had become unpleasantly
aggressive. At the same time a wave of intense virility seemed to surge
out from him and impinge upon her.
"I think you could make it in--in your class," she finished with a laugh.
"You are very strong."
Her gaze rested for a moment on the muscular neck, heavy corded, almost
bull-like, bronzed by the sun, spilling over with rugged health and
strength. And though he sat there, blushing and humble, again she felt
drawn to him. She was surprised by a wanton thought that rushed into her
mind. It seemed to her that if she could lay her two hands upon that
neck that all its strength and vigor would flow out to her. She was
shocked by this thought. It seemed to reveal to her an undreamed
depravity in her nature. Besides, strength to her was a gross and
brutish thing. Her ideal of masculine beauty had always been slender
gracefulness. Yet the thought still persisted. It bewildered her that
she should desire to place her hands on that sunburned neck. In truth,
she was far from robust, and the need of her body and mind was for
strength. But she did not know it. She knew only that no man had ever
affected her before as this one had, who shocked her from moment to
moment with his awful grammar.
"Yes, I aint no invalid," he said. "When it comes down to hard-pan, I
can digest scrap-iron. But just now Ive got dyspepsia. Most of what
you was sayin I cant digest. Never trained that way, you see. I like
books and poetry, and what time Ive had Ive read em, but Ive never
thought about em the way you have. Thats why I cant talk about em.
Im like a navigator adrift on a strange sea without chart or compass.
Now I want to get my bearins. Mebbe you can put me right. How did you
learn all this youve ben talkin?"
"By going to school, I fancy, and by studying," she answered.
"I went to school when I was a kid," he began to object.
"Yes; but I mean high school, and lectures, and the university."
"Youve gone to the university?" he demanded in frank amazement. He felt
that she had become remoter from him by at least a million miles.
"Im going there now. Im taking special courses in English."
He did not know what "English" meant, but he made a mental note of that
item of ignorance and passed on.
"How long would I have to study before I could go to the university?" he
asked.
She beamed encouragement upon his desire for knowledge, and said: "That
depends upon how much studying you have already done. You have never
attended high school? Of course not. But did you finish grammar
school?"
"I had two years to run, when I left," he answered. "But I was always
honorably promoted at school."
The next moment, angry with himself for the boast, he had gripped the
arms of the chair so savagely that every finger-end was stinging. At the
same moment he became aware that a woman was entering the room. He saw
the girl leave her chair and trip swiftly across the floor to the
newcomer. They kissed each other, and, with arms around each others
waists, they advanced toward him. That must be her mother, he thought.
She was a tall, blond woman, slender, and stately, and beautiful. Her
gown was what he might expect in such a house. His eyes delighted in the
graceful lines of it. She and her dress together reminded him of women
on the stage. Then he remembered seeing similar grand ladies and gowns
entering the London theatres while he stood and watched and the policemen
shoved him back into the drizzle beyond the awning. Next his mind leaped
to the Grand Hotel at Yokohama, where, too, from the sidewalk, Martin Eden page 5 Martin Eden page 7 |