You keep on your own ground and play the game.

And you keep making him get what you need--before it's too late!" All at once she gave a sharp little laugh.
"It's a kind of a race, you see," she said.
The night after this talk, Ethel lay in her bed, and tried to remember and think it out.

How new and queer and puzzling.

So many vistas she had dreamed of had been closed on every hand.
"What's the matter with me ?" The matter was that her old ideals and standards were being torn up by the roots, roots that went deep down into the soil of life in the town in Ohio.

But Ethel did not think of that.