She attacked his hair resolutely. In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully. I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. He could not understand how men could live ignoring this one predominant interest, this wonderful research into personality and the possibilities of pleasing, these complex, fascinating expeditions that began in interest and mounted to the supremest, most passionate intimacy. . Nobody toys with me. She was trying to adjust the wimple, dragging at it and fighting with her loosened hair. Wood; "here's a pretty to-do about nothing. The rainstorm, short-lived, began to subside.
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