She looked at him gravely and squinted. A white man takes his life in his hands. Wood could stand it no longer. "What has caused this quarrel, Thames?" asked the little girl, anxiously. But Jack speedily burst it open with the iron bar. Evidently her foresight has saved me a funeral. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. But it wasn’t the harassment that bothered her. “Why should women be dependent on men?” she asked; and the question was at once converted into a system of variations upon the theme of “Why are things as they are?”—“Why are human beings viviparous?”—“Why are people hungry thrice a day?”—“Why does one faint at danger?” She stood for a time looking at the dry limbs and still human face of that desiccated unwrapped mummy from the very beginnings of social life.
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