It was a mad half-hour. “Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. As he passed along the main thoroughfare, he heard his own name pronounced, and found that it was a hawker, crying a penny history of his escapes. Once they were below, McClintock turned upon the doctor. He seemed to have shrunken in his seat. “I suppose I ought to congratulate you,” he said. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. She said she hoped she had not distressed him by the course she had felt obliged to take, and he told her not to be a fool. For what indeed does she do? A simple song, no gesture, no acting, nothing. . 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.
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