“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. I wonder what it was. There is a new life, different from the old life of dependence, possible. ‘Pray you, mademoiselle, can you not—’ ‘No use trying to enlist Lucilla’s aid,’ snapped Roding. He knocked his pipe on the teak rail. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. ’ ‘That’s better. " "Anything like that?" "Yes; but the colour is lavender.
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