“Yes. He will let you live if it pleases him. Gerald stood quite still for a moment or two, listening intently. He claimed me for his wife, and showed to every one a marriage certificate. ” She looked around the apartment again. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. What need had she of Gerald, or anyone? Yet, if he was here, would he not make some foolish game with her and make her laugh? Instead of behaving in this fashion so stupide, and crying, crying, crying.
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