whoever she might be, would wake up some morning and find me
missing."

Then for a while he sat staring at the eddies in the pool below. "I
have a vision of another kind of woman," he said--"a woman to whom
my ideal would be the same compelling force that it is to me--a
living thing that would drive her, that she was both master of, and
slave to, as I am. So that she would feel no fears, and ask no
favors! So that she would not want mercy, nor ask pledges--but just
give herself, as I give myself, and take the chances of the game.
Don't you think there may be just one such woman in the world?"

"Perhaps," was the reply. "But then--mightn't a woman be sure of
your ideal, but not of you?"

"As to that," said Thyrsis, "she would have to know me.

"As to that," said Corydon, "she would have to love you."

And Thyrsis smiled. "As in most arguments," he said, "it's mainly a
matter of definitions."

Section 5. At this point there came a call from the distance, and
Corydon started. "There is mother," she exclaimed. "How the
afternoon has flown!"

"And must you go home now?" he asked.

"I'm afraid so," she replied. "We have a long row."