He came as an agreeable diversion from an insoluble perplexity. Then a surge of rage welled up. You will begin to see it all opening out. He has often told me that if he could play sober, he would go to America and reap a fortune. 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. She had heard of women journalists, women writers, and so forth; but she was not even admitted to the presence of the editors she demanded to see, and by no means sure that if she had been she could have done any work they might have given her. Parbleu, but she was a fool. “No! No no no no no no no!” She ran towards them, her arms outstretched, but he blocked her. “Here goes,” he said. “Stop this—this humbugging,” he explained. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir.
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