She knew that in her new rôle she was as likely as not to be a rank failure. “Your teeth are chattering! I’ll make you some hot chocolate!” Cathy cried. ‘I will fight to the death, if it needs. Nature is a mother; her sympathies have always been feminist, and she has tempered the man to the shorn woman. It ceased to be the symbol of liberty and a remote and quite abstracted person, and became suddenly and very disagreeably the token of a large and portentous body visible and tangible. Then, there's Mr. A mate? A brother-lover to tromp about the world with? “I cannot.
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