Her husband stared at her over the candle flame. She was keenly resolved to do well in the school examination, and not to be drowned in the seas of emotion that threatened to submerge her intellectual being. She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. He too looked at the girl, slackened his pace and looked at her again through his eye-glasses, looked over his shoulder after he had passed, and finally came to a dead stop. Refused admittance, they broke open the door. Ann Veronica could at the same time ask herself what this queer old gentleman could have meant by speaking to her, and know—know in general terms, at least—what that accosting signified. She fell into another slumber, one which was more like a blackout. Lucy entered the house by picking the back door lock with the slim jim. I asked him why, and he hadn’t a reason. For the sort of love-making you think about. To-morrow they will know the truth.
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