If you noticed, our house is fairly close to the road. The girl nodded sagely. He gurgled as if trying to communicate. The echo of those kindly words seemed still to ring in her ears. Rain changed to hail, then 154 sleet, then snow. He was daring enough to have seized and carried him off before the whole congregation, but he preferred waiting. She was conscious of a ceaseless undercurrent of sound—the guttural Chinese tongue. From the sounds of it, he was better off dead. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish.
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