Such people will ask you with a clever air why the servile
wars were always the most fierce, desperate and atrocious of all wars.
And you may make such answer as you can--even the eminently feminine one,
if you choose, so typical of the women's literal mind "I don't see what
this has to do with it!" How many arguments have been knocked over (I
won't say knocked down) by these few words! For if we men try to put the
spaciousness of all experiences into our reasoning and would fain put the
Infinite itself into our love, it isn't, as some writer has remarked, "It
isn't women's doing." Oh no. They don't care for these things. That
sort of aspiration is not much in their way; and it shall be a funny
world, the world of their arranging, where the Irrelevant would
fantastically step in to take the place of the sober humdrum Imaginative
. . . "
I raised my hand to stop my friend Marlow.
"Do you really believe what you have said?" I asked, meaning no offence,
because with Marlow one never could be sure.
"Only on certain days of the year," said Marlow readily with a malicious
smile.
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