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THE REAL ADVENTURE

THE REAL ADVENTURE

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CONTENTS

BOOK I

THE GREAT ILLUSION

CHAPTER

I A Point of Departure
II Beginning an Adventure
III Frederica's Plan and What Happened to It
IV Rosalind Stanton Doesn't Disappear
V The Second Encounter
VI The Big Horse
VII How It Struck Portia
VIII Rodney's Experiment
IX After Breakfast


BOOK II

LOVE AND THE WORLD

I The Princess Cinderella
II The First Question and an Answer to It
III Where Did Rose Come In
IV Long Circuits and Short
V Rodney Smiled
VI The Damascus Road
VII How the Pattern Was Cut
VIII A Birthday
IX A Defeat
X The Door That Was to Open
XI An Illustration
XII What Harriet Did
XIII Fate Plays a Joke
XIV The Dam Gives Way
XV The Only Remedy
XVI Rose Opens the Door


BOOK III

THE WORLD ALONE

I The Length of a Thousand Yards
II The Evening and the Morning Were the First Day
III Rose Keeps the Path
IV The Girl With the Bad Voice
V Mrs. Goldsmith's Taste
VI A Business Proposition
VII The End of a Fixed Idea
VIII Success--and a Recognition
IX The Man and the Director
X The Voice of the World
XI The Short Circuit Again
XII "I'm All Alone"
XIII Frederica's Paradox
XIV The Miry Way
XV In Flight
XVI Anti-Climax
XVII The End of the Tour
XVIII The Conquest of Centropolis


BOOK IV

THE REAL ADVENTURE

I The Tune Changes
II A Broken Parallel
III Friends
IV Couleur-de-rose
V The Beginning





BOOK ONE

The Great Illusion



CHAPTER I

A POINT OF DEPARTURE


"Indeed," continued the professor, glancing demurely down at his notes,
"if one were the editor of a column of--er advice to young girls, such
as I believe is to be found, along with the household hints and the
dress patterns, on the ladies' page of most of our newspapers--if one
were the editor of such a column, he might crystallize the remarks I
have been making this morning into a warning--never marry a man with a
passion for principles."

It drew a laugh, of course. Professorial jokes never miss fire. But
_the_ girl didn't laugh. She came to with a start--she had been staring
out the window--and wrote, apparently, the fool thing down in her
note-book. It was the only note she had made in thirty-five minutes.

All of his brilliant exposition of the paradox of Rousseau and
Robespierre (he was giving a course on the French Revolution), the
strange and yet inevitable fact that the softest, most sentimental,
rose-scented religion ever invented, should have produced, through its
most thoroughly infatuated disciple, the ghastliest reign of terror that
ever shocked the world; his masterly character study of the "sea-green
incorruptible," too humane to swat a fly, yet capable of sending half of
France to the guillotine in order that the half that was left might
believe unanimously in the rights of man; all this the girl had let go
by unheard, in favor, apparently, of the drone of a street piano, which
came in through the open window on the prematurely warm March wind. Of
all his philosophizing, there was not a pen-track to mar the virginity
of the page she had opened her note-book to when the lecture began.

And then, with a perfectly serious face, she had written down his silly
little joke about advice to young girls.

There was no reason in the world why she should be The Girl. There were
fifteen or twenty of them in the class along with about as many men.
And, partly because there was no reason for his paying any special
attention to her, it annoyed him frightfully that he did.

She was good-looking, of course--a rather boyishly splendid young
creature of somewhere about twenty, with a heap of hair that had, in
spite of its rather commonplace chestnut color, a sort of electric
vitality about it. She was slightly prognathous, which gave a humorous
lift to her otherwise sensible nose. She had good straight-looking,
expressive eyes, too, and a big, wide, really beautiful mouth, with
square white teeth in it, which, when she smiled or yawned--and she
yawned more luxuriously than any girl who had ever sat in his
classes--exerted a sort of hypnotic effect on him. All that, however,
left unexplained the quality she had of making you, whatever she did,
irresistibly aware of her. And, conversely, unaware of every one else
about her. A bit of campus slang occurred to him as quite literally
applicable to her. She had all the rest of them faded.
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