James Oppenheim

“ A light, eager tread; the door opened and, silhouetted by the hall light, swayed the garments of the girl, her jaunty hat feather-pierced, her loose, light coat catching gold along its fringes.
"Oh, El, where are you?" she cried.
"Here I am, En," said Elsa, softly. The girl's name was Enid Wardell.
"El!" she cried. They embraced; and against Elsa's hot cheek was laid a cool one. Suddenly, drawing the eager girl close, she felt how immeasurably older than Enid she was; she felt vastly maternal ”

“ I want a woman to be feminine and old-fashioned; to be gentle and sweet; to serve the man she loves; to be his true mate; to be a mother that lives in her children. That's the sort of thing I worship. A woman of that kind could twist me around her little finger. ”

“ I've hit a man with a big rod of iron and nearly killed him when the gang came after me. I've speeded up the blooms to make a record until they've carried the fellows out fainting." He laughed cynically. "And now here I sit telling the good people to provide playgrounds for the 'victims of environment and heredity.' Playgrounds? Think of the railroad yards around here: those are the playgrounds for boys."
A spell came over Elsa's spirits: a mystery, an enchantment, a terror. ”

“ Fitch. A wave of faintness swept Elsa; her forehead was moist. Then the door opened with a jerk.
"Curse those kids!" growled Mr. Fitch, setting the latch. "Never do what they're told! Come along."
He impolitely preceded her down past three offices (she saw little Brown working in one of them) , and she hurried after his big strides into the narrow room, hung her dripping hat and coat on the stand, pulled her book from the pigeon-hole, and sat down at the desk-flap. Mr. Fitch was swaying back and forth in his springy chair, his hands clasped behind his head. ”

“ In the silence she heard the rain, and only the rain. It was splashing against the window in one steady gust after another; and she knew it was drenching the mills, and soaking, until it shone in the lantern-light, the coal in the barges, and sweeping the streets. The huge city was driven indoors by it; the population clung to its warm rooms and its cheerful lights ”

“ The head was large, the hair light brown, the eyes brown, the nose slightly aquiline, and there was a cynical twist at the corner of his smiling mouth. But what was back of this exterior came shining through: the fighter, overflowingly masculine, absorbingly interesting to all that was feminine in her. She felt madly alone with a fascinating enemy. ”

“ He started back for the desk, and his moving off was a tremendous relief. Elsa felt freer; she did not want to sit down at the desk-flap again.
At this moment there were light steps in the hall, and through the half-open doorway appeared a small, timid, eye-glassed man, very pale, very earnest; a man, thought Elsa, typical among social workers.
"Mr. Fitch," came a thin whisper. "Busy? Am I disturbing you?"
"No, Brown, come in. What is it?" asked Mr. Fitch. ”

“ From the strangeness of that night when, a little girl of six, she first confronted death. Her mother had understood her; that she remembered well. Where her father misjudged, her mother had divined. The small garden-inclosed cottage stood a little out from the western Maryland village, out along an unfrequented road in a narrow valley. One of the terrible mysteries of her childhood was the fact that the earth beneath was said to be a network of the tunnels of a coal-mine; she feared that, digging in the garden, she might fall through ”

“ Then he stuck his hands in his coat pockets and began walking up and down the room. "These modern women! They're loony, utterly loony. Now what's a woman made for? Lord! did you ever meet a woman doctor? ”

“ Fitch was bitterly chuckling, as he sat back in his revolving chair and stuck his hands in his trousers pockets.
"'Victims of their heredity and environment!'" he muttered, glancing into her eyes, as Elsa thought, maliciously; "I'm sick of victims of heredity and environment. Are you a 'victim,' Miss Brack? Look at me ”