"Well. I'm too much distracted by my friend's predicament to discuss socialism.... I rather like the idea though of the strong man having the opportunity to prove himself stronger than Life ... find out what, he was put on earth and endowed with certain characteristics for ... rather a pity all that should atrophy.... However--what shall my friend do? Continue to live with a man she despises?" "She's no right to despise him or anybody. It's the system, I tell you. And no doubt she's just as weak in some way herself. Every man jack of us is so chuck full of faults and potential crime it's a wonder we don't break out every day in the week, and if women are going to desert us when the old Adam runs head on into some one of the devilish traps the present civilization has set out all over the place, instead of being able to sidestep it once more, well--she'd best divorce herself from the idea of matrimony before she goes in for the thing itself. Would I desert my brother if he got into trouble? Would you?" "N--o, I suppose you are right, and I doubt if she would leave him anyway. However ... there's the other aspect. What can a woman in her position do to help matters out? You have met a good many of her kind here. Fancy Miss Lawton or Mrs. Bascom or Miss Maynard forced to work--" "I can't. If I had imagination enough for that I'd be writin' novels like Miss Dwight." "I believe they'd do better than you think. Well, this friend isn't quite so much absorbed in society and poker and dress. She's more like--well, there's Mrs. Ruyler, for instance. She was very much like the rest of us, and now we never see her. She's as devoted to ranching as her husband." "There was sound bourgeois French blood there," he said shrewdly. "And she wasn't brought up like the rest of you. Don't you forget that." "Then you think we're hopeless?" "No, I don't. Three or four women of your crowd--a little older, that's all--are doin' first-rate in business, and they were light-headed enough in their time, I'll warrant. And you, for instance--if you came up against it--" "Yes? What could I do?" cried Alexina gayly. "But alas! you admit you have no imagination." "Don't need any. You'd be good for several things. You could go into the insurance business like Mrs. Lake, or into real estate like Mrs. Cole--people like to have a pretty and stylish young lady showin' 'em round flats. Or you could buy an orchard like the Ruylers--that'd require capital. If we had the socialistic state you'd be put on one of the thinking boards, so to speak. That's the point. You've got no training, but you've got a thinker. You'd soon learn. But I'm not so sure of your friend. Somehow, you've given me the impression she's just one of these lady-birds." "I'm afraid she is," said Alexina with a sigh. "But you're so good to take an interest.... Suppose you had the socialistic state now--to-morrow, what would you do with all these--lady-birds?"