He was not sure he knew just what
it was that Melanctha wanted. He knew if it was only play, with
Melanctha, that he did not want to do it. But he remembered always
how she had told him he never knew how to feel things very deeply.
He remembered how she told him he was afraid to let himself ever know
real feeling, and then too, most of all to him, she had told him
he was not very understanding. That always troubled Jefferson very
keenly, he wanted very badly to be really understanding. If Jefferson
only knew better just what Melanctha meant by what she said. Jefferson
always had thought he knew something about women. Now he found that
really he knew nothing. He did not know the least bit about Melanctha.
He did not know what it was right that he should do about it. He
wondered if it was just a little play that they were doing. If it was
a play he did not want to go on playing, but if it was really that he
was not very understanding, and that with Melanctha Herbert he could
learn to really understand, then he was very certain he did not want
to be a coward. It was very hard for him to know what he wanted. He
thought and thought, and always he did not seem to know any better
what he wanted. At last he gave up this thinking. He felt sure it was
only play with Melanctha. "No, I certainly won't go on fooling with
her any more this way," he said at last out loud to himself, when he
was through with this thinking.
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