double. Way down in me there is a place that all my life I have been
laying things aside in to tell some day to somebody that will
understand. I don't remember a single one of them now, but when the time
comes somebody is going to ask me a question very softly and it is going
to be the key that will unlock the treasures of all my life, and he will
take them out one by one, and look at them and love them and smile over
them and scold over them and be frightened even to swearing over them,
perhaps weep over them, and then--while I'm very close--pray over them.
I could feel the tears getting tangled in my lashes, but I forced them
back.

Now, I don't see why I should have been sentimentalizing over myself
like that. Just such a longing, miserable, wait-until-he-comes--and
why-doesn't-he-hurry-or-I'll-take-the-wrong-man attitude of mind and
sentiment in women in general is what I have taken a vow on my soul, and
made a great big important wager to do away with. There are millions of
lovely men in the world and all I have to do is to go out and find the
right one, be gentle with him until he understands my mode of attack to
be a bit different from the usual crawfish one employed by women from
prehistoric times until now, but not later: and then domesticate him in
any way that suits me.

Here I've been in Glendale almost three months and have let my time be
occupied keeping house for nobody but myself and to entertain my
friends, planting a flower garden that can't be used at all for
nourishment, and sewing on another woman's baby clothes.

I've written millions of words in this book and there is as yet not one
word that will help the Five in the serious and important task of
proving that they have a right to choose their own mates, and certainly