And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend. He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. In the afternoon he probably loafs in his pajamas. Once he had managed to stake his claim, she would have all to do to prove her identity and win it back. She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. There were two of them. . You have been burning paper, I see. Peg after peg had gone down his blistered throat, but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze roved inquisitively.
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