‘Monsieur, my wife intended not to anger you,’ he said in a tone of apology. “Why should women be dependent on men?” she asked; and the question was at once converted into a system of variations upon the theme of “Why are things as they are?”—“Why are human beings viviparous?”—“Why are people hungry thrice a day?”—“Why does one faint at danger?” She stood for a time looking at the dry limbs and still human face of that desiccated unwrapped mummy from the very beginnings of social life. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. I’ve been waiting a long time for you. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. ‘Where the devil have you been?’ ‘Consorting with a nun in the gardens.
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