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She crooked her finger. He meditated, and began a new paragraph. “Of course I’m manager for this expedition,” he said, after an interval of self-examination. They were bathing in the stream. CHAPTER XXIX. Manning, all this sort of thing is very well as sentiment, but does it correspond with the realities? Are women truly such angelic things and men so chivalrous? You men have, I know, meant to make us Queens and Goddesses, but in practice—well, look, for example, at the stream of girls one meets going to work of a morning, round-shouldered, cheap, and underfed! They aren’t queens, and no one is treating them as queens. “Delusion!” “You can call it what you like,” she said. I mystify you; I can see that. On your own.
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