’ ‘Lord, man, it’s only a scratch!’ Suddenly Gerald snapped his fingers. “But if you knew anything of that—” “I did. “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. The psychic vibration of him thickened the air of the room as if he were already inside. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. It was a duel, you understand, and that is not permitted. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. But not today.
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