“Why shouldn’t one face the facts of one’s self?” She stood up. 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. “Oh, John, please!” “You are already leaving me. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass. He thrust out a rhetorical hand. Then he released her hand, and sat back a little, appearing to concentrate his thoughts on her face.
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