WOMAN 



has to make the best of herself. What is different 

 now to mid-Victorian days or from the time of 

 Fielding or Queen Elizabeth ? There was a pose of 

 modesty once, now few get offended if a man forgets 

 his table manners ; that is the only real difference 

 between my mother's friends and some of her son's 

 acquaintances. 



The man who hasn't loved — and I'm going to make 

 the whole of this impersonal — is a mountain of un- 

 interesting basaltic rock which there is no point to 

 explore. A woman who can't be stirred by a healthy 

 man's words — whose speech is sober — is a monument 

 of sterilised maidenhood. Posing flappers should 

 have no place in our consideration ; they are roe-less 

 herrings who, if fortunate,^keep a maid to sign for the 

 presents. Their dogs are the only things in breeding 

 possessed, their pose is the positiveness of possession 

 — of youth or a youth. The flaunt of the flapperish 

 hair is because they haven't the cult of the careful 

 coiffure. The different stages of a man's experiences 

 of woman without any chronological order are : 



The first favourite. 



The second favourite. 



The winner on form. 



The abuser to the face but the defender in absence. 



The one who made the pace a cracker. 



The intelhgent " aide." 



The catch-phrase breather. 



The woman who must — mix 'em. 



The one who could not face the starting gate. 



The one who ran out. 



And, can't I think of another one ? Oh yes — 



The " perfect lady." 



I have written this book for my friends, acquaint- 

 ances and for a public I have been known to, and yet 



349 



