Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. I don’t quite know why. ” The shock of their intellectual attitude was over, usage robbed it of the first quaint effect of deliberate unreason. Stanley, to which the two ladies subordinated themselves intelligently. She felt herself shaking again. She backed away, amazed as the thing buzzed loudly in the center of the room. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. I’ve muddled all this business. Then she saw the bodies piled in the corner. One main avenue was for her to become a sort of salaried accessory wife or mother, to be a governess or an assistant schoolmistress, or a very high type of governess-nurse.
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