Nature is a mother; her sympathies have always been feminist, and she has tempered the man to the shorn woman. . "Jack," said Mrs. “Dreadful women, my dear!” said Miss Stanley. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. " "How had he offended you?" inquired the widow.
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