’ She paused, struggling for the word. ’ ‘Couldn’t help but do so, ma’am,’ said Mrs Ibstock. ” She smiled grimly at the recollection of that lunch—tea and roll at a cheap café. “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. "Would I had never seen either of you!" cried Jack, rising and pacing the apartment with a hurried step. ‘Jacques, where are you hurt?’ But as she asked the question, she saw the wound.
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