You see you have so _much_--intellectual companionship--sympathetic
ideas--kindred tastes--don't you see what a fool I'd make of myself in
judging the thing by you?"--she ended with a little gulp which might have
been a laugh or might have been something else.
Ernestine was giving some affectionate rubs to her brass coffee pot. When
she raised her head it was to look at Georgia strangely. She continued to
look, and the strangeness about her intensified. "Shall I tell you
something, Georgia?"--her voice low and queer. "Something I _know_? You
wouldn't be willing to fight 'till you dropped for sympathetic ideas. You
wouldn't be willing to lay down your life for intellectual companionship.
You wouldn't be willing to go barefoot and hungry and friendless for
kindred tastes. Don't for one minute believe you would! The only thing
for which you'd be willing to let the whole world slip away from you is
an old-fashioned, out-of-date thing called love--just the primitive,
fundamental love there is between a man and a woman.
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