He wanted her; she wanted him. She had known it
from the moment of their meeting. The man had found his woman, the
woman her man. Nature had settled the whole affair in an instant. And
now civilization, propriety, etiquette, whatever one cared to call it,
must needs step in with the rules and regulations and precedents.
The goal was there, clear in sight, but it must be reached by the
winding road appointed. She, being a woman and, by virtue of her sex,
primeval, scorned the road, and would have ignored it. But she knew
men, and especially, at that moment as their eyes met, she knew Kirk;
and she understood that to him the road was a thing that could not be
ignored. The mere idea of doing so would seem grotesque and impossible,
probably even shocking, to him. Men were odd, formal creatures, slaves
to precedent.
He must have time, it was the prerogative of the male; time to reveal
himself to her, to strut before her, to go through the solemn comedy of
proving to her, by the exhibition of his virtues and the careful
suppression of his defects, what had been clear to her from the first
instant, that here was her mate, the man nature had set apart for her.
He would begin by putting on a new suit of clothes and having his hair
cut.
She smiled. It was silly and tiresome, but it was funny.
"Will you show me your pictures, Mr.
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