There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. In all her life no living thing had had to depend upon her, not even a dog or a cat. “Of course I’m manager for this expedition,” he said, after an interval of self-examination. The Storm. A crowd was collected round the fellow, who was rapidly disposing of his stock. He stood back and held her shoulders.
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