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Neither combatant could use his sword; and in strength the fugitive was evidently superior to his antagonist. Later in the evening she heard him whistling, poor man! She felt very restless and excited. Then she would have quiet times, in which she would say to herself, “Now look here! Let me think it all out!” For the first time, it seemed to her, she faced the facts of a woman’s position in the world—the meagre realities of such freedom as it permitted her, the almost unavoidable obligation to some individual man under which she must labor for even a foothold in the world. She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her. Please to let me go there.
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