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.Once again Carley fell under the fury of her ordeal.Wavering now, restlessand sleepless, given to violent starts and slow spells of apathy, she waswearing to defeat.That spring day, one year from the day she had left New York for Arizona, shewished to spend alone.But her thoughts grew unbearable.She summed up theendless year.Could she live another like it? Something must break within her.She went out.The air was warm and balmy, carrying that subtle current whichcaused the mild madness of spring fever.In the Park the greening of thegrass, the opening of buds, the singing of birds, the gladness of children,the light on the water, the warm sun--all seemed to reproach her.Carley fledfrom the Park to the home of Beatrice Lovell; and there, unhappily, sheencountered those of her acquaintance with whom she had least patience.Theyforced her to think too keenly of herself.They appeared carefree while shewas miserable.Over teacups there were waging gossip and argument and criticism.When Carleyentered with Beatrice there was a sudden hush and then a murmur."Hello, Carley! Now say it to our faces," called out Geralda Conners, a fair,handsome young woman of thirty, exquisitely gowned in the latest mode, andwhose brilliantly tinted complexion was not the natural one of health."Say what, Geralda?" asked Carley."I certainly would not say anything behindyour backs that I wouldn't repeat here.""Eleanor has been telling us how you simply burned us up.""We did have an argument.And I'm not sure I said all I wanted to.""Say the rest here," drawled a lazy, mellow voice."For Heaven's sake, stirus up.If I could get a kick out of anything I'd bless it.""Carley, go on the stage," advised another."You've got Elsie Ferguson tiedto the mast for looks.And lately you're surely tragic enough.""I wish you'd go somewhere far off!" observed a third."My husband is dippyabout you.""Girls, do you know that you actually have not one sensible idea in yourheads?" retorted Carley."Sensible? I should hope not.Who wants to be sensible?"Geralda battered her teacup on a saucer."Listen," she called."I wasn'tkidding Carley.I am good and sore.She goes around knocking everybody andsaying New York backs Sodom off the boards.I want her to come out with itright here.""I dare say I've talked too much," returned Carley."It's been a rather hardwinter on me.Perhaps, indeed, I've tried the patience of my friends."Page 107ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html"See here, Carley," said Geralda, deliberately, "just because you've had lifeturn to bitter ashes in your mouth you've no right to poison it for us.We allfind it pretty sweet.You're an unsatisfied woman and if you don't marrysomebody you'll end by being a reformer or fanatic.""I'd rather end that way than rot in a shell," retorted Carley."I declare, you make me see red, Carley," flashed Geralda, angrily."Nowonder Morrison roasts you to everybody.He says Glenn Kilbourne threw youdown for some Western girl.If that's true it's pretty small of you to ventyour spleen on us."Carley felt the gathering of a mighty resistless force, But Geralda Connerswas nothing to her except the target for a thunderbolt."I have no spleen," she replied, with a dignity of passion."I have onlypity.I was as blind as you.If heartbreak tore the scales from my eyes,perhaps that is well for me.For I see something terribly wrong in myself, inyou, in all of us, in the life of today.""You keep your pity to yourself.You need it," answered Geralda, with heat."There's nothing wrong with me or my friends or life in good old New York.""Nothing wrong!" cried Carley."Listen.Nothing wrong in you or lifetoday-nothing for you women to make right? You are blind as bats--as dead toliving truth as if you were buried.Nothing wrong when thousands of crippledsoldiers have no homes--no money--no friends--no work--in many cases no foodor bed?.Splendid young men who went away in their prime to fight for youand came back ruined, suffering! Nothing wrong when sane women with the votemight rid politics of partisanship, greed, crookedness? Nothing wrong whenprohibition is mocked by women--when the greatest boon ever granted thiscountry is derided and beaten down and cheated? Nothing wrong when there arehalf a million defective children in this city? Nothing wrong when there arenot enough schools and teachers to educate our boys and girls, when thoseteachers are shamefully underpaid? Nothing wrong when the mothers of thisgreat country let their youngsters go to the dark.motion picture halls andnight after night in thousands of towns over all this broad land see picturesthat the juvenile court and the educators and keepers of reform schools saymake burglars, crooks, and murderers of our boys and vampires of our girls?Nothing wrong when these young adolescent girls ape you and wear stockingsrolled under their knees below their skirts and use a lip stick and painttheir faces and darken their eyes and pluck their eyebrows and absolutely donot know what shame is? Nothing wrong when you may find in any city womenstanding at street corners distributing booklets on birth control? Nothingwrong when great magazines print no page or picture without its sex appeal?Nothing wrong when the automobile, so convenient for the innocent little runout of town, presents the greatest evil that ever menaced American girls!Nothing wrong when money is god--when luxury, pleasure, excitement, speed arethe striven for? Nothing wrong when some of your husbands spend more of theirtime with other women than with you? Nothing wrong with jazz--where the lightsgo out in the dance hall and the dancers.jiggle and toddle and wiggle in afrenzy? Nothing wrong in a country where the greatest college cannot reportbirth of one child to each graduate in ten years? Nothing wrong with racesuicide and the incoming horde of foreigners?.Nothing wrong with youwomen who cannot or will not stand childbirth? Nothing wrong with most of you,when if you did have a child, you could not nurse it?.Oh, my God,there's nothing wrong with America except that she staggers under a Titanicburden that only mothers of sons can remove!.You doll women, youparasites, you toys of men, you silken-wrapped geisha girls, you painted,Page 108ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlidle, purring cats, you parody of the females of your species-- find brainsenough if you can to see the doom hanging over you and revolt before it is toolate!"CHAPTER XICarley burst in upon her aunt."Look at me, Aunt Mary!" she cried, radiant and exultant [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]