" Her son complied, and sat down upon the patch-work coverlet beside her. ” Anna stood up. It’s Providence. It was very pretty and very dainty while it lasted, but we played it with our eyes open, and we perfectly understood the game—both of us. “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. The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done.
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