It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. She had never understood how much knowledge had been kept from her because she was a woman and even began to doubt the methods of the Church, something she never would have dared before. She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage. Again he played for her; and again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her soul. She let out a wail. ‘And I have a very good mind to kill you.
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