” “Don’t say that,” Sydney begged. My father died a year ago, by the way. 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. Perhaps it was the recollection of those happy days. “So she must have had you fairly young, right?” Lucy nodded again. She had maintained a B in each subject except History, which she occasionally felt compelled to strive for A’s in, considering she had lived through most of it.
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