But her husband, whose deportment to her was considerably changed since the fatal knot had been tied, paid no attention whatever to her grief. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. Before an hour had elapsed, the concourse was fearfully increased. Sebastian's arms were about her, his fists pumping her stomach as she coughed forth saltwater from her belly and lungs. He then said that if she would not obey him in this course she should “never darken his doors again,” and was, indeed, frightfully abusive. “I will not be drawn into a conversation with Mr. Yet he’s been here for six years, and he’s as much a fixture as that sham mahogany sideboard.
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