” The girl on the lounge drew a long sobbing breath. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. “Mr. We girls, my sister and I, were left quite alone when our father died, and I made up my mind to make some little place in the world for myself. ” She stopped buttoning her glove, and looked at him. It was an odd room, used principally for the reception of guests and visiting dignitaries, packed from end to end with ill-assorted sofas and padded chairs. She guessed that he probably slept all of three hours a night at most. . “It’s jolly,” he said, “to feel you have come to me. ’ ‘I find that difficult to believe,’ snapped the general, jerking to and fro as his agitation mounted. Then he put the paper by.
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