Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble. Spurlock gave his full name and tremblingly inscribed it upon the certificate of marriage. “Why should women be dependent on men?” she asked; and the question was at once converted into a system of variations upon the theme of “Why are things as they are?”—“Why are human beings viviparous?”—“Why are people hungry thrice a day?”—“Why does one faint at danger?” She stood for a time looking at the dry limbs and still human face of that desiccated unwrapped mummy from the very beginnings of social life. “I wonder if they will seem altered,” she remarked for the third time. They slow danced to a Bon Jovi ballad. “No, a Queen was at once a political pawn and a social laborer, just as they are today. But if I painted her as I'd like to, the natives would instantly distrust me; and I'd have to build up confidence all over again. It appeared he had already ordered dinner and wine, and the whiskered waiter waved in his subordinate with the soup forthwith.
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