“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. Here she walked more slowly, looking constantly at the notices in the shop windows. She smiled encouragingly, laying aside her plate and turning her chair from the table. “You are of the genus obstinate,” he said. For she and this old lady became at once friends. “This,” he exclaimed, “must be either the indifference of an utterly callous nature, or it may be—ye gods, it may be—innocence. We have a very nice set of young people here too just at present, and you would soon make some friends. But death is better for them, since they’re orphans now!” He screamed.
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