Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. “Don’t let them know I’m here. Excited by the scene, Jack, however, could pay little attention to the good man's discourse, and was lost in a whirl of tumultuous emotions. “They seem smaller, you know, even physically smaller,” she said. “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 will put the question,” Drummond said gravely.
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