\"Just fine, John. Slowly Prudence Sindlesham nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his face. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. It felt wonderful and golden to bask in the sunlight of their approval, even if their approval was fickle and dangerous. I will no longer be a burthen to those upon whom I have no claim, but compassion. I've watched this lad—this Sheppard—from infancy; and, though I have apparently concerned myself little about him, I have never lost sight of my purpose. Nothing, however, could be discerned, except the crumbling brickwork.
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