Already a strange exhilaration was spreading over David's mind. Life
was not twice but ten times more interesting than it had appeared to
the prejudiced eyes of Vivien Warren. It was as though she--he--had
passed through some magic door, gone through the looking-glass and
was contemplating the same world as the one Vivie had known
for--shall we say fifteen?--years, but a world which viewed from a
different standpoint was quite changed in proportions, in colour, in
the conjunction of events. It was a world in which everything was
made smooth and easy before the semblance of manhood. What a joy to
be rid of skirts and petticoats! To be able to run after and leap on
to an omnibus, to wear the same hat day after day just stuck on top
of her curly head. Not, perhaps, to change her clothes, between her
uprising and her retirement to bed, unless she were going out to
dine. No simpering. No need to ask favours. No compliments. It is
true she felt awkward in the presence of women, not quite the same,
even with Honoria. But with men. What a difference! She felt she had
never really known men before. At first the frank speech, the
expletives, the smoking-room stories made her a little uncomfortable
and occasionally called forth an irrepressible blush. But this was
not to her disadvantage. It made her seem younger, and created a
good impression on her tutors and acquaintances.
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