A neighbor stopped by as the day wore on, causing her to duck and cower as he rang the doorbell over and over. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. When you don’t have any fingers left, I take a toe. His salary was a few paltry hundreds a year. Her aunt had summoned up an altogether too vivid picture of her father as the masterful man, overbearing, emphatic, sentimental, noisy, aimless. They mean everything that women can mean—except submission. ‘Shall we abandon the guard, then, sir?’ ‘Certainly not.
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