Moreoever, it had cost her a whipping and several days’ imprisonment in her cell on bread and water. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. . ” There came a silence again. The impassivity of her features changed at last. ‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. The winters were terrible in cold climates, and she often had been driven to dig herself large underground pits where she waited it out like a mole in the cold months. Then he would turn his face to her, and she would have to think of herself in his eyes. For nothing will ever convince me that it is not the man’s share in life to shield, to protect, to lead and toil and watch and battle with the world at large.
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