"What's the matter?" he cried. ” “What!” he asked; “not a kiss?” She affected not to hear. My dear! we’ve had so many moments! I used to go over the times we’d had together, the things we’d said—like a rosary of beads. Remember what the conjuror said. 265 The madness crept around her like smoke under a door. “You have forgotten. When you reach San Francisco, you can buy something more appropriate. Doesn’t matter a bit to me. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. She was mentally transported for an instant to the old castle in Herculis.
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