‘Certainly this is true,’ she managed. Michelle looked at Lucy knowingly. At any rate he made it very clear that night that there was an ineradicable discord in life, a jarring something that must shatter all her dreams of a way of living for women that would enable them to be free and spacious and friendly with men, and that was the passionate predisposition of men to believe that the love of women can be earned and won and controlled and compelled. She wanted to cry out upon herself for the uttermost fool in existence. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. The heavy weapon thundered against the door; and it speedily yielded to their efforts. She sat, crouched together, by the corner of the hearthrug under the bookcase that supported the pig’s skull, and looked into the fire and up at Ann Veronica’s face, and let herself go. You must not, however, accompany me, Jack.
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