She was marvellously pretty, but he was not quite sure—yet—that it was advisable for him to sit with her in so public a place. She breathed into a cloth soaked in rose oil as Sebastian had prescribed, but the smell of roses mixed obscenely with the smell of death and decay, causing her to retch. “You are a funny, a very funny young lady,” he said, “but we waste time here. Manning?” she asked. It grew clear to her that throughout all her wild raid for independence she had done nothing for anybody, and many people had done things for her. “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. Down that on the right the young culprit was dragged—along that on the left a fainting woman was borne in the arms of several females. At least that, I think, is what makes a clever woman’s independent career so much more difficult than a clever man’s. “We were bound to do this when you kissed me,” she sobbed through her tears.
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