Well, he might if it amused
him; but she didn't see why she should ramble round New York with him to
give him his opportunity.
She had told him, and she had told Olive, that she was determined to
produce some effect on him; but now, suddenly, she felt differently
about that--she ceased to care whether she produced any effect or not.
She didn't see why she should take him so seriously, when he wouldn't
take her so; that is, wouldn't take her ideas. She had guessed before
that he didn't want to discuss them; this had been in her mind when she
said to him at Cambridge that his interest in her was personal, not
controversial. Then she had simply meant that, as an inquiring young
Southerner, he had wanted to see what a bright New England girl was
like; but since then it had become a little more clear to her--her short
talk with Ransom at Mrs. Burrage's threw some light upon the
question--what the personal interest of a young Southerner (however
inquiring merely) might amount to. Did he too want to make love to her?
This idea made Verena rather impatient, weary in advance. The thing she
desired least in the world was to be put into the wrong with Olive; for
she had certainly given her ground to believe (not only in their scene
the night before, which was a simple repetition, but all along, from the
very first) that she really had an interest which would transcend any
attraction coming from such a source as that. If yesterday it seemed to
her that she should like to struggle with Mr.
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