And he is so simple that he might
mistake it for a joke and nothing could be further from my thoughts.
Mrs. Travers, I will confess to you that I don't feel jocular in the
least. But what can he know about people of our sort? And when I reflect
how little people of our sort can know of such a man I am quite content
to address him as Captain Lingard. It's common and soothing and most
respectable and satisfactory; for Captain is the most empty of all
titles. What is a Captain? Anybody can be a Captain; and for Lingard
it's a name like any other. Whereas what he deserves is something
special, significant, and expressive, that would match his person, his
simple and romantic person."
He perceived that Mrs. Travers was looking at him intently. They
hastened to turn their eyes away from each other.
"He would like your appreciation," Mrs. Travers let drop negligently.
"I am afraid he would despise it."
"Despise it! Why, that sort of thing is the very breath of his
nostrils."
"You seem to understand him, Mrs. Travers. Women have a singular
capacity for understanding. I mean subjects that interest them; because
when their imagination is stimulated they are not afraid of letting it
go. A man is more mistrustful of himself, but women are born much
more reckless. They push on and on under the protection of secrecy and
silence, and the greater the obscurity of what they wish to explore the
greater their courage.
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