“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. "Well," growled Blueskin, "you've had my offer. "Not a moment is to be lost," whispered Jonathan to Trenchard. "Don't disturb yourself," continued the other, nowise disconcerted by the rebuke. The Father did not know of course about her connection with the Valades. That was supposed to be Madame Valade. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry.
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