Not that any living being could be less selfish or vain, or less of an
egotist than Dulcie. If she saw things chiefly as they were related to
herself, it was because this problem of her life was rather an intricate
one. Her position was not sufficiently simple to suit her simple nature.
Her mother, who had been of Spanish descent, had died young; her father
had married again. He was the sort of man who always married again, and
if his present wife, with whom he was rather in love, had passed away he
would have undoubtedly married a third time. Some men are born husbands;
they have a passion for domesticity, for a fireside, for a home. Yet,
curiously, these men very rarely stay at home. Apparently what they want
is to have a place to get away from.
The new stepmother, who was young and rather pretty, was not unkind, but
was bored and indifferent to the little girl. Dulcie was sensitive;
since her father's second marriage she had always felt in the way.
Whether her stepmother was being charming to her husband, or to some
other man--she was always charming to somebody--Dulcie felt continually
that she was not wanted. Her father was kind and casual.
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