She went to her room and changed the loose morning gown in which she had lunched for a dark walking dress. ‘And so you sneak back,’ she threw at him, ‘like the jackal that you are. In her endeavour to follow him, Aliva met with a severe fall, and was conveyed away, in a state of insensibility, by Sir Cecil. ‘That is not your affair. She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly. Ramage, by a hundred skilful hints had led her to realize that the problem of her own life was inseparably associated with, and indeed only one special case of, the problems of any woman’s life, and that the problem of a woman’s life is love. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish.
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