"No? Well, then I shall make a point of sending you a copy. _The_
_Speech_ _on_ _the_ _French_ _Revolution_--_The_ _American_ _Rebellion_?
Which shall it be, I wonder?" He noted something in his pocket-book.
"And then you must write and tell me what you think of it. This
reticence--this isolation--that's what's the matter with modern life!
Now, tell me about yourself. What are your interests and occupations?
I should imagine that you were a person with very strong interests. Of
course you are! Good God! When I think of the age we live in, with
its opportunities and possibilities, the mass of things to be done and
enjoyed--why haven't we ten lives instead of one? But about yourself?"

"You see, I'm a woman," said Rachel.

"I know--I know," said Richard, throwing his head back, and drawing his
fingers across his eyes.

"How strange to be a woman! A young and beautiful woman," he continued
sententiously, "has the whole world at her feet. That's true, Miss
Vinrace. You have an inestimable power--for good or for evil. What
couldn't you do--" he broke off.

"What?" asked Rachel.

"You have beauty," he said. The ship lurched. Rachel fell slightly
forward. Richard took her in his arms and kissed her. Holding her tight,
he kissed her passionately, so that she felt the hardness of his body
and the roughness of his cheek printed upon hers. She fell back in her
chair, with tremendous beats of the heart, each of which sent black
waves across her eyes. He clasped his forehead in his hands.