"I am a radical woman ... Penton and I both believe in the theory of
free love, though we happen to be married ... what you have told me is
all sweet and natural to me ... only--you must not do what you say
you'll do--in New York!--"
"I must, or--" and I paused, to go on in a lower, embarrassed voice ...
"Do--do you know what else I thought of--dreamed of--?
"In Paris--I understand--men live with women as a matter of course--
"You see--" I was hot with shame to the very ears, "you see--there, you
know,--I thought if I went there I would find some pretty little French
girl that I would take to live with me ... in some romantic attic in the
Montmartre district ... and we would be happy together ... and I would
be grateful, so grateful, to her!"
"Why you're the Saint Francis of the Radicals," Hildreth exclaimed.
"Please don't make fun of me ... I suppose you think me very foolish."
"Foolish?... No, I think you have a very beautiful soul. I wish every
man had a soul like that."
She took my head in her hands and kissed me on the brow.
"Hildreth, only tell me what I am to do?"
"I do not know ... theoretically I believe in freedom in sex ... I wish
to God I could help you."
"Why can't you?"
"Hush, you do not know what you're asking!"
"By the living Christ, I only know that I would crawl after you, and
kiss your holiest feet before all the world, if you helped me."
"Now I understand what Lecky meant when he spoke of the sacrificial
office of a certain type of women ... I only wish ... but come, we must
go."