I’m not a bit afraid of anything—scandal, difficulty, struggle. I got a rusty bolt cutter. ” “I am convinced of it,” she answered. He was well mounted, as was his companion; and had pistols in his holsters, and a hanger at his girdle. You can do anything you please. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands.
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