He contrasted the lot of women in general with the lot of men, presented men as patient, self-immolating martyrs, and women as the pampered favorites of Nature. He thought for a moment, and went on: “Love is something that has to be taken care of. But you couldn't. "Ah! Quilt Arnold, my man, is it you? By the powers! I'm glad to see you. Let us be gone. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. Their colloquy was ended abruptly by the apparition of Miss Klegg at the further door. “You know what? You’re right. You are too kind. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation.
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