She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis. People were not slaves to their gods as they are now, oppressed and unhappy, chained to their mortality and suffering so that they may one day enter an imaginary Heaven. Walking into the bedroom, she quickly shed the miniskirt and sweater, folding them without ceremony. Earles protested, seating himself before the desk, and dipping his pen in the ink. Confidence in himself would strengthen him.
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