It may be seen from this that his knowledge of Sally
was supremely slight. He had a broad judgment for all women, a
pigeon-hole in his mind into which he threw them without
discrimination. When, therefore, he came across the exception in
Sally, he did not recognize her, flung her in with the rest, folded
more carefully perhaps, tied even with a little distinguishing piece
of ribbon. But into that same receptacle in his mind she went,
nevertheless. Yet Traill was not without shrewdness in his wide
judgment of the sex. He could read his sister as you read a book in
which the pages only need cutting, and the glossary sometimes
referred to.
On this evening, certainly, he had failed to see the point towards
which she drove; but in her dealings with another of her sex, a woman
is most inexplicable of all to a man. For this edition de luxe, he
needs reference, dictionary, and magnifying glass, with a steady
finger always to keep his place on the line should his eyes for one
moment lift or wander from the print.
Sally, as yet, he had classified broadly. In the very next moment
he was to learn more of her, to take her down from that
indiscriminating file in his mind, and scrutinize her afresh.
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