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. Sheppard heaved a deep sigh, and opened her eyes, which now looked larger, blacker, and more melancholy than ever. “Fancy stabbing a man for jealousy!” she thought. She went down, flushed and light-hearted, to the Widgetts’ after lunch to make some final arrangements and then, as soon as her aunt had retired to lie down for her usual digestive hour, took the risk of the servants having the enterprise to report her proceedings and carried her bag and hold-all to the garden gate, whence Teddy, in a state of ecstatic service, bore them to the railway station. He thought of her and himself, and no longer in that vein of incidental adventure in which he had begun. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery.
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