"These people," she said, "of whom I have been speaking are masters
of the situation. You can't enjoy money alone! You want to race,
hunt, entertain, shoot, join in the revels of country houses! You
must be one of them or you can enjoy nothing."
Monty's words were ringing back in his ears. After all, pleasures
could be bought - but happiness!
"And you," he said, "you too think that these things you have
mentioned are the things most to be desired in life?"
A certain restraint crept into her manner.
"Yes," she answered simply.
"I have been told," he said, "that you have given up these things
to live your life differently. That you choose to be a worker.
You have rich relations - you could be rich yourself!"
She looked him steadily in the face.
"You are wrong," she said, "I have no money. I have not chosen a
profession willingly - only because I am poor!"
"Ah!"
The monosyllable was mysterious to her. But for the wild
improbability of the thing she would have wondered whether indeed he
knew her secret. She brushed the idea away. It was impossible.
"At least," he said, "you belong to these people."
"Yes,"she answered, "I am one of the poor young women of society."
"And you would like," he continued, "to be one of the rich ones -
to take your place amongst them on equal terms.
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