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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. The one problem was that it didn’t fly. The knife is at my breast. It must be my fault that you have not learnt that your husband is the man to come to—at such a time as this. ‘Dieu du ciel, but answer me!’ Martha’s eyes were swimming again, and she reached out. For a nun at night it is less dangerous than for the jeune demoiselle. ‘Don’t be silly. "You are my prisoner.
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