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matrimony。 Now he saw the deeper wisdom in it； wanted it himself；
and concluded therefrom that he was in love。
Both were now of the same mind； and there could be but the one
ending； and it was the mild nine days' wonder of Genevieve's
neighborhood when she and Joe walked out together。
Both were blessed with an avarice of speech； and because of it their
courtship was a long one。 As he expressed himself in action； she
expressed herself in repose and control； and by the love…light in
her eyesthough this latter she would have suppressed in all maiden
modesty had she been conscious of the speech her heart printed so
plainly there。 〃Dear〃 and 〃darling〃 were too terribly intimate for
them to achieve quickly； and； unlike most mating couples； they did
not overwork the love…words。 For a long time they were content to
walk together in the evenings； or to sit side by side on a bench in
the park； neither uttering a word for an hour at a time； merely
gazing into each other's eyes； too faintly luminous in the starshine
to be a cause for self…consciousness and embarrassment。
He was as chivalrous and delicate in his attention as any knight to
his lady。 When they walked along the street； he was careful to be
on the outside；somewhere he had heard that this was the proper
thing to do；and when a crossing to the opposite side of the street
put him on the inside； he swiftly side…stepped behind her to gain
the outside again。 He carried her parcels for her； and once； when
rain threatened； her umbrella。 He had never heard of the custom of
sending flowers to one's lady…love； so he sent Genevieve fruit
instead。 There was utility in fruit。 It was good to eat。 Flowers
never entered his mind； until； one day； he noticed a pale rose in
her hair。 It drew his gaze again and again。 It was HER hair；
therefore the presence of the flower interested him。 Again； it
interested him because SHE had chosen to put it there。 For these
reasons he was led to observe the rose more closely。 He discovered
that the effect in itself was beautiful； and it fascinated him。 His
ingenuous delight in it was a delight to her； and a new and mutual
love…thrill was theirsbecause of a flower。 Straightway he became
a lover of flowers。 Also； he became an inventor in gallantry。 He
sent her a bunch of violets。 The idea was his own。 He had never
heard of a man sending flowers to a woman。 Flowers were used for
decorative purposes； also for funerals。 He sent Genevieve flowers
nearly every day； and so far as he was concerned the idea was
original； as positive an invention as ever arose in the mind of man。
He was tremulous in his devotion to heras tremulous as was she in
her reception of him。 She was all that was pure and good； a holy of
holies not lightly to be profaned even by what might possibly be the
too ardent reverence of a devotee。 She was a being wholly different
from any he had ever known。 She was not as other girls。 It never
entered his head that she was of the same clay as his own sisters；
or anybody's sister。 She was more than mere girl； than mere woman。
She waswell； she was Genevieve； a being of a class by herself；
nothing less than a miracle of creation。
And for her； in turn； there was in him but little less of illusion。
Her judgment of him in minor things might be critical （while his
judgment of her was sheer worship； and had in it nothing critical at
all）； but in her judgment of him as a whole she forgot the sum of
the parts； and knew him only as a creature of wonder； who gave
meaning to life； and for whom she could die as willingly as she
could live。 She often beguiled her waking dreams of him with
fancied situations； wherein； dying for him； she at last adequately
expressed the love she felt for him； and which； living； she knew she
could never fully express。
Their love was all fire and dew。 The physical scarcely entered into
it； for such seemed profanation。 The ultimate physical facts of
their relation were something which they never considered。 Yet the
immediate physical facts they knew； the immediate yearnings and
raptures of the fleshthe touch of finger tips on hand or arm； the
momentary pressure of a hand…clasp； the rare lip…caress of a kiss；
the tingling thrill of her hair upon his cheek； of her hand lightly
thrusting back the locks from above his eyes。 All this they knew；
but also； and they knew not why； there seemed a hint of sin about
these caresses and sweet bodily contacts。
There were times when she felt impelled to throw her arms around him
in a very abandonment of love； but always some sanctity restrained
her。 At such moments she was distinctly and unpleasantly aware of
some unguessed sin that lurked within her。 It was wrong；
undoubtedly wrong； that she should wish to caress her lover in so
unbecoming a fashion。 No self…respecting girl could dream of doing
such a thing。 It was unwomanly。 Besides； if she had done it； what
would he have thought of it？ And while she contemplated so horrible
a catastrophe； she seemed to shrivel and wilt in a furnace of secret
shame。
Nor did Joe escape the prick of curious desires； chiefest among
which； perhaps； was the desire to hurt Genevieve。 When； after long
and tortuous degrees； he had achieved the bliss of putting his arm
round her waist； he felt spasmodic impulses to make the embrace
crushing； till she should cry out with the hurt。 It was not his
nature to wish to hurt any living thing。 Even in the ring； to hurt
was never the intention of any blow he struck。 In such case he
played the Game； and the goal of the Game was to down an antagonist
and keep that antagonist down for a space of ten seconds。 So he
never struck merely to hurt； the hurt was incidental to the end； and
the end was quite another matter。 And yet here； with this girl he
loved； came the desire to hurt。 Why； when with thumb and forefinger
he had ringed her wrist； he should desire to contract that ring till
it crushed； was beyond him。 He could not understand； and felt that
he was discovering depths of brutality in his nature of which he had
never dreamed。
Once； on parting； he threw his arms around her and swiftly drew her
against him。 Her gasping cry of surprise and pain brought him to
his senses and left him there very much embarrassed and still
trembling with a vague and nameless delight。 And she； too； was
trembling。 In the hurt itself； which was the essence of the
vigorous embrace； she had found delight； and again she knew sin；
though she knew not its nature nor why it should be sin。
Came the day； very early in their walking out； when Silverstein
chanced upon Joe in his store and stared at him with saucer…eyes。
Came likewise the scene； after Joe had departed； when the maternal
feelings of Mrs。 Silverstein found vent in a diatribe against all
prize…fighters and against Joe Fleming in particular。 Vainly had
Silverstein striven to stay the spouse's wrath。 There was need for
her wrath。 All the maternal feelings were hers but none of the
maternal rights。
Genevieve was aware only of the diatribe； she knew a flood of abuse
was pouring from the lips of the Jewess； but she was too stunned to
hear the details of the abuse。 Joe； her Joe； was Joe Fleming the
prize…fighter。 It was abhorrent； impossible； too grotesque to be
believable。 Her clear…eyed； girl…cheeked Joe might be anything but
a prize…fighter。 She had never seen one； but he in no way resembled
her conception of what a prize…fighter must bethe human brute with
tiger eyes and a streak for a forehead。 Of course she had heard of
Joe Flemingwho in West Oakland had not？but that there should be
anything more than a coincidence of names had never crossed her
mind。
She came out of her daze to hear Mrs。 Silverstein's hysterical
sneer； 〃keepin' company vit a bruiser。〃 Next； Silverstein and his
wife fell to differing on 〃noted〃 and 〃notorious〃 as applicable to
her lov