She was writhing to get her hands loose and found herself gasping with passionate violence, “It’s damnable!—damnable!” to the manifest disgust of the fatherly policeman on her right. Too much, perhaps. Brendon. It was a second reminder that against her claim to go free and untrammelled there was a case to be made, that after all it was true that a girl does not go alone in the world unchallenged, nor ever has gone freely alone in the world, that evil walks abroad and dangers, and petty insults more irritating than dangers, lurk. Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. There is Lady Arlingford’s reception to-night, ten till twelve, and the Hatton House ball, marked with a cross, sir, important. If all wives were of my mind and my spirit, husbands would soon be taught their own insignificance. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband.
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