The release was so great that she felt tears spring from her eyes. The doctor walked over to the bed, folded his arms across his chest and stared down into the unabashed eyes of his patient. “Women are mocked,” she said. ” She was silent for a time, with her nose on the pillow, and that brought her to: “What’s the good of pretending? “I love him,” she said aloud to the dim forms of her room, and repeated it, and went on to imagine herself doing acts of tragically dog-like devotion to the biologist, who, for the purposes of the drama, remained entirely unconscious of and indifferent to her proceedings. He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine.
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