"When you are pointed out--as you WILL be, wherever you go--" said
Julie, "you'll think to yourself, 'Ah, yes, this is very lovely and
very flattering, but I'll never dance again--I'll never rush into the
waves again, I'll never spend a whole morning on the tennis court,'
won't you?"
The Dancing Girl nodded, her eyes filling again, her lips trembling.
"And when people stare after me and follow me," said Julie, "I think to
myself--'Oh, this is very flattering, very delightful--but the young
years are gone--the mother who missed me and longed for me is gone--the
little sisters are married, and deep in happy family cares--they don't
need me any more.' I have what I wanted, but I've paid the price! In a
life like mine there's no room for the normal, wonderful ties of a home
and children. Never--" she put her head back against her chair and shut
her eyes--"never that happiness for me!" She finished, her voice
lowered and carefully controlled.
They were both silent awhile. Then Marian stirred her helpless fingers
just enough to deepen their light pressure on Julie's own.
"Thank you," she said shyly. "I see now. I think I begin to understand."