If we take the stand you suggest"--for Travers had
put forth his violent, new opposition--"what will happen? The quacks and
money-making sharks will get the upper hand. Do you think men would come
to us if exposure faced them? It's the devil, my boy; but of the two
evils this, God knows, is the least. We must do what we can; work for
a scientific and moral redemption, but never play the game like
fools."--"But the women," Travers had put in feverishly, "the
women!"--"Spare me, boy! The women have clutched the heart of me--always.
The women and the--the babies. I've used them to flay many men into
remorse and better living. I am thinking of them, as God hears me, when I
take the course I do!"
And so Travers suffered and groaned in the small, deserted room.
Above and beyond Ledyard's reasoning stood two desolate figures. They
seemed to represent all women: his Priscilla and Margaret Moffatt! One,
the crude child of nature with her gleam undimmed, leading her forth
unhampered, though love and suffering blocked her way; the other, the
daughter of ages of refinement and culture, who had heard the call of the
future in her big woman-heart and could leave all else for the sake of
the crown she might never wear, but which, with God's help, she would
never defile.
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