Then she would have quiet times, in which she would say to herself, “Now look here! Let me think it all out!” For the first time, it seemed to her, she faced the facts of a woman’s position in the world—the meagre realities of such freedom as it permitted her, the almost unavoidable obligation to some individual man under which she must labor for even a foothold in the world. She was wholly unable to conceal her knowledge of his presence. Spurlock stared at Ruth across the rim of his bowl. There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand. Or perhaps my father once. On the floor, underneath the sixth row desks, was an ashtray with a small black dot of blood on its blunt round corner. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. And that happens through our maternity; it’s our very importance that degrades us. His gaze dropped to the black garment that covered her.
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