She had made a bed for herself out of wood and furs. “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. At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. How I envied Gianfrancesco on his wedding night, how I writhed in agony just thinking 171 about his intimacies with you! Then you became pregnant, and there he was, posturing and gloating like the rest of the family, my divinations of a boy in your womb pronounced. So it is that I do not do these things. Sheppard, eagerly. In stature, he was short and stumpy; in person, corpulent; and in countenance, sleek, snub-nosed, and demure. Ramage. “You would be wise to loosen your purse-strings, Gianfrancesco. A dissipated, loose-living man. The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building.
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