"You pretend to be
superior; and then you copy us."
She laughed. But the next moment she was serious.
"No, we don't," she said, "not those of us who think. We know we shall
never oust man from his place. He will always be the greater. We want
to help him; that's all."
"But wasn't that the Lord's idea," he said; "when He gave Eve to Adam to
be his helpmeet?"
"Yes, that was all right," she answered. "He fashioned Eve for Adam and
saw that Adam got her. The ideal marriage might have been the ideal
solution. If the Lord had intended that, he should have kept the match-
making in His own hands: not have left it to man. Somewhere in Athens
there must have been the helpmeet God had made for Socrates. When they
met, it was Xanthippe that she kissed."
A servant brought the coffee and went out again. Her father lighted a
cigar and handed her the cigarettes.
"Will it shock you, Dad?" she asked.
"Rather late in the day for you to worry yourself about that, isn't it?"
he answered with a smile.
He struck a match and held it for her. Joan sat with her elbows on the
table and smoked in silence.
Pages:
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175