and pondering on the curious satisfaction Lillian had found in applying a vulgar term to herself, Lillian sat in her apartment thinking about that same term.
It did not sound vulgar to her. She said it aloud several times and derived a new pleasure at each repetition. The two words were fraught with a wild beauty for her.
They spoke of a spirit brave and rebellious. Anybody could marry. The most brainless, timid wretch imaginable could marry, but it took a rare courage, a woman big enough to scoff at conventions, to be what she was. There was, too, an unorthodox glory in the words, a suggestion of pagan merriment and open sin. The word "wife" sounded flat and lifeless as compared with those two golden words and what they suggested to her. She was glad to be an outlaw. Who couldn't be happy when their lives were all neatly arranged for them by church and court? She was different, a great and fearless spirit.
Lillian Cory translated her thoughts into words and said to the yellow vase on the gate-leg table, "Kept woman. Sounds peppy and like a person who had guts and wasn't all cut and dried. I'm glad nobody ever married me. I really am."
The bell rang and Lillian ran to the door. It was Anna Leitz with her new boy friend, Mr. Clifford Sullivan.
Anna said, "Mr. Sullivan, meet Miss Cory."
Mr. Sullivan said, "Pleased to meetcha."
Miss Cory said, "You're welcome if you're not too
