Excerpt from Fair Margaret a Portrait
"I am a realist," said Mr. Edmund Lushington, as if that explained everything. "We could hardly expect to agree," he added.
It sounded very much as if he had said: "As you are not a realist, my poor young lady, I can of course hardly expect you to know anything."
Margaret Donne looked at him quietly and smiled. She was not very sensitive to other people"s opinions; few idealists are, for they generally think more of their ideas than of themselves. Mr. Lushington had said that he could not agree with her, that was all, and she was quite indifferent. She had known that he would not share her opinion, when the discussion had begun, for he never did, and she was glad of it. She also knew that her smile irritated him, for he did not resemble her in the very least. He was slightly aggressive, as shy persons often are: and yet, like a good many men who profess "realism," brutal frankness and a sweeping disbelief of everything not "scientifically" true, Mr. Lushington was almost morbidly sensitive to the opinion of others. Criticism hurt him; indifference wounded him to the quick; ridicule made him writhe.
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