Sleep did not come easily, but eventually her mind stopped its chattering and she fell into a deep slumber. A remittance man. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. I will light the stove, and there shall be some coffee presently. One never knew when it would be necessary to resume her disguise. She had never been so disposed to agree that the position of women in the modern world is intolerable.
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