She felt like a dried-up old woman. “Why should women be dependent on men?” she asked; and the question was at once converted into a system of variations upon the theme of “Why are things as they are?”—“Why are human beings viviparous?”—“Why are people hungry thrice a day?”—“Why does one faint at danger?” She stood for a time looking at the dry limbs and still human face of that desiccated unwrapped mummy from the very beginnings of social life. You know very well that you took from my easel David Courtlaw’s study of me, and sent it to Cariolus. She screamed involuntarily—she had never in her life screamed before—and then she began to wriggle and fight like a frightened animal against the men who were holding her. S. ‘But what way, Emile?’ ‘Your family, mademoiselle, the family of your father. "I'll see.
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