Финансист

Chapter VIII

           ShethoughtofyoungCowperwood,andthenwaschilledandshamedbythevisionofthelateMr.Sempleandtheforceandqualityofpublicopinion.

           "Whydoyoucometoseemesooften?"sheaskedhimwhenhecalledthefollowingevening.

           "Oh,don’tyouknow?"hereplied,lookingatherinaninterpretiveway.

           "No."

           "Sureyoudon’t?"

           "Well,IknowyoulikedMr.Semple,andIalwaysthoughtyoulikedmeashiswife.He’sgone,though,now."

           "Andyou’rehere,"hereplied.

           "AndI’mhere?"

           "Yes.Ilikeyou.Iliketobewithyou.Don’tyoulikemethatway?"

           "Why,I’veneverthoughtofit.You’resomuchyounger.I’mfiveyearsolderthanyouare."

           "Inyears,"hesaid,"certainly.That’snothing.I’mfifteenyearsolderthanyouareinotherways.Iknowmoreaboutlifeinsomewaysthanyoucaneverhopetolearndon’tyouthinkso?"headded,softly,persuasively.

           "Well,that’strue.ButIknowalotofthingsyoudon’tknow."Shelaughedsoftly,showingherprettyteeth.

           Itwasevening.Theywereonthesideporch.Theriverwasbeforethem.

           "Yes,butthat’sonlybecauseyou’reawoman.Amancan’thopetogetawoman’spointofviewexactly.ButI’mtalkingaboutpracticalaffairsofthisworld.You’renotasoldthatwayasIam."

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