Her tone was icy. She had refused to eat human beings when she had first learned her fate. There was a pause, while the steel grey eyes sliced at her. She had never imagined life was half so sinister as it looked to her in the beginning of these investigations. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. "Fear!" echoed Wild, in a terrible tone,—"fear! Repeat that word again, and nothing shall save you. ‘I doubt very much whether they are yours at all. A person of somewhat artificial graces and mannerisms, she was for once in her life perfectly natural.
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