The mighty concourse became for a moment still. “I have been amusing myself up to now by trying to earn my living,” she replied. "Rachel," said Mr. I've often regretted that I didn't investigate the matter. “I do not understand. Why was she noting things like this? Capes seemed selfpossessed and elaborately genial and commonplace, but she knew him to be nervous by a little occasional clumsiness, by the faintest shadow of vulgarity in the urgency of his hospitality. “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. But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage.
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