human
I suppose there's a million cases a year in New York of crazy young chaps making violent love to decent girls and withdrawing because they have some hidden decency themselves. I'm ashamed that I'm one of them--me, I'm as bad as a nice little Y. M. C. A. boy--I bow to conventions, too. Lordy! the fact that I'm so old-fashioned as even to talk about 'conventions' in this age of Shaw and d'Annunzio shows that I'm still a small-town, district-school radical! I'm really as mid-Victorian as you are, in knowledge. Only I'm modern by instinct, and the combination will always keep me half-baked, I suppose. I don't know what I want from life, and if I did I wouldn't know how to get it. I'm a Middle Western farmer, and yet I regard myself about half the time as an Oxford man with a training in Paris. You're lucky, girl. You have a definite ambition--either to be married and have babies or to boss an office. Whatever I did, I'd spoil you--at least I would till I found myself--found out what I wanted.... _Lord!_ how I hope I do find myself some day!
gpt
Poor boy! she suddenly interrupted;
human
Wonderful! There speaks the American woman, perfectly. You think I'm just chattering. You can't understand that I was never so desperately in earnest in my life. Well, to come down to cases. Specification A--I couldn't marry you, because we haven't either of us got any money--aside from my not having found myself yet. Ditto B--We can't play, just because you _are_ a Puritan and I'm a typical intellectual climber. Same C--I've actually been offered a decent job in the advertising department of a motor-car company in Omaha, and now I think I'll take it.