would not intrigue into marriage, or try and make use of them in any
way. She didn't care about them. And so, because of her isolate
self-sufficiency in the fray, her wild, overweening backbone, they
were ready to attend on her and serve her. Headley in particular
hoped he might overcome her. He was a well-built fellow with sandy
hair and a pugnacious face. The battle-spirit was really roused in
him, and he heartily liked the woman. If he could have overcome her
he would have been mad to marry her.
With him, she summoned up all her mettle. She had never to be off
her guard for a single minute. The treacherous suddenness of his
attack--for he was treachery itself--had to be met by the voltaic
suddenness of her resistance and counter-attack. It was nothing less
than magical the way the soft, slumbering body of the woman could
leap in one jet into terrible, overwhelming voltaic force, something
strange and massive, at the first treacherous touch of the man's
determined hand. His strength was so different from hers--quick,
muscular, lambent. But hers was deep and heaving, like the strange
heaving of an earthquake, or the heave of a bull as it rises from
earth. And by sheer non-human power, electric and paralysing, she
could overcome the brawny red-headed fellow.
He was nearly a match for her. But she did not like him. The two
were enemies--and good acquaintances. They were more or less
matched. But as he found himself continually foiled, he became
sulky, like a bear with a sore head. And then she avoided him.
She really liked Young and James much better. James was a quick,
slender, dark-haired fellow, a gentleman, who was always trying to
catch her out with his quickness. She liked his fine, slim limbs,
and his exaggerated generosity. He would ask her out to ridiculously
expensive suppers, and send her sweets and flowers, fabulously
recherché. He was always immaculately well-dressed.
"Of course, as a lady _and_ a nurse," he said to her, "you are two
sorts of women in one."
But she was not impressed by his wisdom.
She was most strongly inclined to Young. He was a plump young man of
middle height, with those blue eyes of a little boy which are so
knowing: particularly of a woman's secrets. It is a strange thing
that these childish men have such a deep, half-perverse knowledge of
the other sex. Young was certainly innocent as far as acts went. Yet
his hair was going thin at the crown already.
He also played with her--being a doctor, and she a nurse who
encouraged it. He too touched her and kissed her: and did _not_
rouse her to contest. For his touch and his kiss had that nearness
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