" Sir Rowland caught at a chair for support, and passed his hand across his brow, on which the damp had gathered thickly. Her personal maidservant, the first she had ever had in her life, was joyful for her. I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain privileges. As you brew so must you drink. “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.
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