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exactly alike。 The fun consists of somebody's trying to sin without being
found out。 It always goes well。 The British public invariably welcomes
the theme； provided it be dealt with in a merry fashion。 It is only the
serious discussion of evil that shocks us。 There was the usual banging of
doors and the usual screaming。 Everybody was laughing around us。
My young friend sat with rather a curious fixed smile upon his face。
'Fairly well constructed；' I said to him； as the second curtain fell amid yells
of delight。 'Yes；' he answered； 'I suppose it's very funny。' I looked at
him； he was little more than a boy。 'You are rather young；' I said； 'to be a
moralist。' He gave a short laugh。 'Oh！ I shall grow out of it in time；' he
said。 He told me his story later； when I came to know him better。 He
had played the farce himself over in Melbournehe was an Australian。
Only the third act had ended differently。 His girl wife； of whom he was
passionately fond； had taken it quite seriously and had committed suicide。
A foolish thing to do。〃
〃Man is a beast！〃 said the Girton Girl； who was prone to strong
expression。
〃I thought so myself when I was younger；〃 said the Woman of the
World。
〃And don't you now； when you hear a thing like that？〃 suggested the
Girton Girl。
〃Certainly； my dear；〃 replied the Woman of the World； 〃there is a deal
of the animal in man； butwell； I was myself expressing that same
particular view of him； the brute； to a very old lady with whom I was
spending a winter in Brussels； many years ago now； when I was quite a
girl。 She had been a friend of my father's； and was one of the sweetest
and kindestI was almost going to say the most perfect woman I have
ever met； though as a celebrated beauty； stories； dating from the early
Victorian era； were told about her。 But myself I never believed them。
Her calm； gentle； passionless face； crowned with its soft； silver hairI
remember my first sight of the Matterhorn on a summer's evening；
somehow it at once reminded me of her。〃
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〃My dear；〃 laughed the Old Maid； 〃your anecdotal method is
becoming as jerky as a cinematograph。〃
〃I have noticed it myself；〃 replied the Woman of the World； 〃I try to
get in too much。〃
〃The art of the raconteur；〃 observed the Philosopher； 〃consists in
avoiding the unessential。 I have a friend who never yet to my knowledge
reached the end of a story。 It is intensely unimportant whether the name
of the man who said the thing or did the deed be Brown or Jones or
Robinson。 But she will worry herself into a fever trying to recollect。
'Dear； dear me！' she will leave off to exclaim； 'I know his name so well。
How stupid of me！' She will tell you why she ought to recollect his name；
how she always has recollected his name till this precise moment。 She
will appeal to half the people in the room to help her。 It is hopeless to try
and induce her to proceed； the idea has taken possession of her mind。 After
a world of unnecessary trouble she recollects that it was Tomkins； and is
delighted； only to be plunged again into despair on discovery that she has
forgotten his address。 This makes her so ashamed of herself she declines
to continue； and full of self… reproach she retires to her own room。 Later
she re…enters； beaming； with the street and number pat。 But by that time
she has forgotten the anecdote。〃
〃Well； tell us about your old lady； and what it was you said to her；〃
spoke impatiently the Girton Girl； who is always eager when the subject
under discussion happens to be the imbecility or criminal tendency of the
opposite sex。
〃I was at the age；〃 continued the Woman of the World； 〃when a young
girl tiring of fairy stories puts down the book and looks round her at the
world； and naturally feels indignant at what she notices。 I was very
severe upon both the shortcomings and the overgoings of manour natural
enemy。 My old friend used to laugh； and that made me think her callous
and foolish。 One day our bonnelike all servants； a lover of gossip
came to us delighted with a story which proved to me how just had been
my estimate of the male animal。 The grocer at the corner of our rue；
married only four years to a charming and devoted little wife； had run
away and left her。
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〃'He never gave her even a hint； the pretty angel！' so Jeanne informed
us。 'Had had his box containing his clothes and everything he wanted
ready packed for a week； waiting for him at the railway stationjust told
her he was going to play a game of dominoes； and that she was not to sit
up for him； kissed her and the child good… night； andwell； that was the
last she ever saw of him。 Did Madame ever hear the like of it？'
concluded Jeanne； throwing up her hands to heaven。 'I am sorry to say；
Jeanne； that I have；' replied my sweet Madame with a sigh； and led the
conversation by slow degrees back to the subject of dinner。 I turned to
her when Jeanne had left the room。 I can remember still the burning
indignation of my face。 I had often spoken to the man myself； and had
thought what a delightful husband he wasso kind； so attentive； so proud；
seemingly； of his dainty femme。 'Doesn't that prove what I say；' I cried；
'that men are beasts？' 'I am afraid it helps in that direction；' replied my
old friend。 'And yet you defend them；' I answered。 'At my age； my
dear；' she replied； 'one neither defends nor blames； one tries to understand。'
She put her thin white hand upon my head。 'Shall we hear a little more of
the story？' she said。 'It is not a pleasant one； but it may be useful to us。' 'I
don't want to hear any more of it；' I answered； 'I have heard enough。' 'It is
sometime