But to confess about Gerald— no, a thousand times. “And what will Mr. “You haven’t come here to make a lot of difficulties?” she asked. A door in this house opened upon the yard. “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. “Are you looking for Mike? He’s working. “Why?” “I still love you. The light of memory flashed in the man’s face. “You are coming right out into life—facing it all. “How odd that I should almost spring into your arms just on my doorstep!” she remarked gaily. Jonathan, however, still lingered.
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