“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. “Or I know another one who wears cologne. Oh God! my limbs fail me. ‘Major Gerald Alderley, I arrest you in the name of the King. How on earth does it concern you?” Annabel laughed hardly. His new wife’s face was sweet and angelic with hair the color of flax, her belly already visibly large beneath a roe skin pelt.
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