Let's talk of this chap. F. And, anyhow, it doesn’t matter to us. ” Annabel shrugged her shoulders. Against the sinister, the threatening, monstrous inhumanity of the limitless city, there was nothing now but this supreme, ugly fact of a pursuit— the pursuit of the undesired, persistent male. She observed the tides, amazed by how high the water could rise, almost touching the tops of the cliffs. Perhaps her granddaughter might marry his grandson. She said it audibly, having learned long since that an audible prayer was a concentrated one. 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. “Why shouldn’t one face the facts of one’s self?” She stood up.
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