And the cave-man is, and is known
to be, quite above sensation.
The heroine, too, shares the same point of view. "Take
me," she murmurs as she falls into the hero's embrace,
"be my cave-man." As she says it there is, so the writer
assures us, something of the fierce light of the cave-woman
in her eyes, the primordial woman to be wooed and won
only by force.
So, like everybody else, I had, till I saw him, a great
idea of the cave-man. I had a clear mental picture of
him--huge, brawny, muscular, a wolfskin thrown about him
and a great war-club in his hand. I knew him as without
fear with nerves untouched by our effete civilization,
fighting, as the beasts fight, to the death, killing
without pity and suffering without a moan.
It was a picture that I could not but admire.
I liked, too--I am free to confess it--his peculiar way
with women. His system was, as I understood it, to take
them by the neck and bring them along with him. That was
his fierce, primordial way of "wooing" them. And they
liked it. So at least we are informed by a thousand
credible authorities. They liked it. And the modern woman,
so we are told, would still like it if only one dared to
try it on.
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