“What do you mean?” Lucy asked. ‘Monstrously unfair of you, Hilary. Been making herself at home all right. If you know her for the vicious, scheming wretch that she is, why in God’s name—?’ ‘She’s not a vicious, scheming wretch,’ Gerald said calmly. The little matter of an accent may be misleading, I grant you, but —’ He was interrupted, and with impatience. Then she would have quiet times, in which she would say to herself, “Now look here! Let me think it all out!” For the first time, it seemed to her, she faced the facts of a woman’s position in the world—the meagre realities of such freedom as it permitted her, the almost unavoidable obligation to some individual man under which she must labor for even a foothold in the world. “Delusion!” “You can call it what you like,” she said. But in the train going home her aunt reasoned it out. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. On the one hand, she seemed to think plainly and simply, and would talk serenely and freely about topics that most women have been trained either to avoid or conceal; and on the other she was unconscious, or else she had an air of being unconscious—that was the riddle—to all sorts of personal applications that almost any girl or woman, one might have thought, would have made. Man, if you tell her you love her, and later they took you away to prison, who would sit at the prison gate until your term was up? Ruth. ’ ‘Ah, that was well done of him,’ exclaimed Melusine. Her soul was full of the sense of disaster. Rich folks, once.
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