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The eye tells more than the tongue. And
If the eye and the tongue contradict each other, believe the eye.
There is an indifference that attracts, and there is an indifference that repels. He is a sagacious man, and she is a sagacious woman, who will differentiate them. The question resolves itself into that which so often puzzles the angler,--how much line to let out. About one thing there need be no hesitation,
When your fish is within reach, be quick with the landing-net--or even with the gaff.
In the matter of wooing, soon enough does the young girl learn to prefer the mature manners of the man of the world to the gaucheries of inexperienced youth. As to the man!
How curious the things that appeal to this lord of creation, Man!--a half-averted face--a laughing gesture--a merry eye--an all but imperceptible tone of the voice--the scarce felt touch of a reluctant hand--a semi-tender phrase--an unexpected glance--the momentary pressure of petulant lips--a blanched cheek--a look prolonged one fractional part of a second beyond its wont--an infinitesimal drooping of the eyelid--a speaking silence--a half-caught sigh--these will entrap the male brute where green widths that were never dried will not hold him. But
By what men are won, most women seem thoroughly to comprehend.
By what women are won, few men know. Perhaps
No woman knows by what she herself is won.
One thing there is, at all events, to which woman will always succ.u.mb: tenderness. But remember, Dames, that
Tenderness is extremely difficult of simulation. Or rather,
Tenderness is so delicate and deep-seated a feeling, that few care to attempt its simulation.
A woman who gives herself too freely is apt to regret the giving. In time, too, she discovers that, as a matter of fact,
No woman can give her real self twice: one or other gift will prove to be a loan. (And
It is always and only the first recipient that causes a woman's heart to flutter, and often it flutters long.) 144
A second gift is generally a mortgage--if it is not a sale.
A mortgage is difficult to bind. For
There is a statute of limitations in love as there is in law. Nor is the former to be set aside by bond.
That pair is in a parlous state when either party discovers that the t.i.tle was not properly searched. Since
Everybody expects a fee simple,--though few deserve it, G.o.d wot!
Perhaps the most durable conquest is the incomplete one. Which sounds illogical. But it is well to remember that
Repletion seems to cause, in the man, temporary indifference; while
Repletion causes, in the woman, enduring content. And in this we can detect a significant distinction between the s.e.xes: namely the fact that
A single goal satisfies most women;
No single goal ever yet satisfied the restless spirit of man.
What gives keenest joy is the evocation of latent pa.s.sion. For Each takes pleasure in believing that he or she alone can evoke this pa.s.sion. Accordingly,
The premature confession of pa.s.sion, and the confession of premature pa.s.sion, both rankle in the breast--and, probably, in the breast of both penitent and confessor.
What intensity of feeling a woman can throw into the enunciation of a Christian name! There is perhaps no better clue to possession that this.
For, probably,
Not until a man's Christian mane is ecstatically uttered is a woman wholly his.
Men and women content with the different weapons. This is why Men are rarely intrepid in the presence of women; but women rarely stand in awe of men.--Nothing differentiates the s.e.xes more than this; but the psychological reason is difficult to discover. Perhaps,
The making of love is a sort of duel, the conditions of which are that the man shall doff all his armor and the woman may don all hers. Indeed,
The battle of love-making would be an unequal combat, even were both contestants fully panoplied; for,
A woman's derision will pierce any mail. In fact,
No armor is impervious to woman's shafts--be they those of laughter or be they those of love. So
The veriest roue' is vulnerable to the veriest maid. But
For each man she meets, a woman carries in her quiver but one shaft. If that misses its aim, she is powerless: it is like a dart without a thong; when thrown, the man can close. But
Always it devolves upon the man to take the initiative. But, again,
Always the man must pretend that he takes no initiative. But, again,
Always the woman must pretend that she gives no opportunity.
The game of love is not only one of chance but one of skill.
What irks man is that a woman pretends that she must be circ.u.mvented by wiles. But
Man was ever a clumsy wooer. Nevertheless,