Our temperaments were unsuited, we looked out on life from different windows.
I'm not at all sure"-- reflectively--"that the union of sympathetic temperaments, even where less love is, does not result in a much larger degree of happiness than the union of opposites, where there is great love.

The jar and fret is there, despite the attraction, and love starves in an atmosphere of discord.

For the race, probably the mysterious attraction of opposites will produce the best results.

But for individual happiness the sympathetic temperament is the first necessity." There was a silence, Penelope feeling that Lord St.John had crystallised in words, thoughts and theories that she sensed as being the foundation of her own opinions, hitherto unrecognised and nebulous.
Presently he spoke again.
"And I don't really think men are at all suited to have the care and guardianship of women." "Unfortunately they're all that Providence has seen fit to provide," replied Penelope, with her usual bluntly philosophical acceptance of facts.
"And yet--we men don't understand women.

We're constantly hurting them with our clumsy misconceptions--with our failure to respond to their complexities." Penelope's eyes grew kind.
"I don't think you would," she said.
"Ah, my dear, I'm an old man now and perhaps I understand.