’ Mrs Sindlesham abruptly sat up straighter in her chair. “The white unaggressive woman who corrects and nurses and serves, and is worshipped and betrayed—the martyr-queen of men, the white mother. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. He can't be far off. I’d only have to do something about it, and that I can’t. The class laughed, a few putting their hands to their foreheads in a military salute to mock her. And how could I come home—when he locks me in rooms and all that?” “I do wish this wasn’t going on,” said Miss Stanley, after a pause. But after the first shock came a warm glow of relief.
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