"What have you got there in your breast—a stone? Is there blood or water in your veins?" The dam broke, but not with violence. It would be too mortifying. One or the other. A woman cannot change her soul. It was hard to meet that gaze. He's passed through some rough mental torture. 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.
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