The Price She Paid
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David Graham Phillips >> The Price She Paid
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He looked at her, and though he knew her and had
seen her train herself and had helped in it, he marveled.
``You are happy?'' he said eagerly. ``Surely--yes,
you MUST be happy.''
``More than that,'' answered she. ``You'll have to
find another word than happiness--something bigger
and stronger and deeper.''
``Now you can have your holiday,'' laughed he.
``But''--with mock sternness--``in moderation! He
must be an incident only. With those who win the high
places, sex is an incident--a charming, necessary
incident, but only an incident. He must not spoil your
career. If you allowed that you would be like a mother
who deserts her children for a lover. He must not
touch your career!''
Mildred, giving the last touches to her costume before
the glass, glanced merrily at Moldini by way of it.
``If he did touch it,'' said she, ``how long do you think
he would last with me?''
Moldini paused half-way in his nod of approval, was
stricken with silence and sadness. It would have been
natural and proper for a man thus to put sex beneath
the career. It was necessary for anyone who developed
the strong character that compels success and
holds it. But-- The Italian could not get away from
tradition; woman was made for the pleasure of one
man, not for herself and the world.
``You don't like that, maestro?'' said she, still
observing him in the glass.
``No man would,'' said he, with returning
cheerfulness. ``It hurts man's vanity. And no woman would,
either; you rebuke their laziness and their dependence!''
She laughed and rushed away to fresh triumphs.
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