Here was a terrific figure gnashing his teeth, and howling like a wild beast;—there a lover, with hands clasped together and eyes turned passionately upward. “It is a hateful story. “Everything will follow,” she said. Poor young lady! She trembled too, and was unable to give her evidence. “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. She was as pale as death, but she seemed to have lost the power of movement. Oh, I know. Before he even glanced at the man on the floor he stepped over to her side and took the poker from her. One cannot successfully argue with a drunken man.
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