But escape to where? She thought of the ships that sailed from the peninsulas to hot deserts where spices were traded. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness. ’ ‘For God’s sake,’ protested his junior. He allowed his irons and clothes to be taken off without resistance. It’s John.
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