He gave her one of the sweaty red cans. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. But it doesn’t alter the situation. “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. Her heartbeat raced, her limbs turned to water, and it was only by a miracle and the strength of the arms that held her that she remained standing on her feet. An uncomfortable silence followed. At this juncture, the sound of oars reached his ears, and he perceived Mr. " "Perhaps that was it.
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