She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. They walked past his old jungle gym set to a hilly park that dwelled sleepily beyond his house. Your Mom says to come downstairs for dessert. Ennison had disappeared. Here, Caliban, attend to the door, and keep the wicket locked till I return. In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping.
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