"The point is," continued Cornelia serenely, "that a woman’s sex emotion is generally excited by something that takes her fancy; a man’s, by something that stirs his blood. The mind plays the bigger part in the one case, the body in the other. That’s why, in the duel of sex, the psychological moment is so important to the woman, the physiological moment to the man. "These acute distinctions are quite beyond me. A man has as much gray matter as a woman, or even more. Then why should he let his mental processes suffer paralysis whenever a nice woman looks at him?" "Well, that’s one of the mysteries that marriage helps us to understand, Araminta. In the life of a man there come these physiological moments, these sex storms, different from anything in the experience of a woman. I don’t mean to say that men have more physical passion than women. But there are occasions when their physical passion takes a more violently concentrated form. Mazie, in her vulgar little way, isn’t so far wrong when she says: ’Scratch a fine gentleman, and you’ll find a cave man.’" "Do you mean to tell me that there are absolutely no men who feel about love as we do?" "I’ve never met one. Have you?" Janet was thinking: "Surely Robert isn’t like that!" Aloud she said nothing. There was a dangerous glint in her friend’s eyes. Cornelia had an uncanny way of penetrating one’s thoughts when Robert was the object of them. Had she accomplished this feat of divination again? At all events, an acrid note entered her voice as she continued: "Is it really only Monsieur St. Hilaire that you can’t make up your mind about? If so, take my advice. Come down off your high horse and make the most of your good fortune." "My good fortune!" "Let’s be perfectly frank with each other, my dear. Here’s a man who wants to marry you. He’s well-born, cultivated, rich. His one child is a girl who adores you and whom you adore. The only thing against him is that he once committed a serious breach of decorum—" "And that I don’t love him—" interpolated Janet. Cornelia blandly ignored the interruption. "His letter shows," she went on, "that he is willing to make the most handsome amends, the only amends a man can make in a matter of this sort. What more do you ask?" "I’m not asking him for amends. I simply want to be let alone." "Araminta, let me beg you not to deceive yourself about the changing moral values we hear so much of nowadays. Has the price of virginity really gone down? Judged by the conversation of radicals and Outlaws, yes. Judged by the ticker of the matrimonial exchange, it is still pretty high. Bear that in mind, and remember that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush." "Do you mean to say," exclaimed Janet, in great astonishment, "that you, of all people, advise me to _accept_ this offer?" Her tone irritated Cornelia. "Beggars can’t be choosers," she began. "They can remain beggars," replied Janet tersely.