Most subjects of any depth were taboo between them, especially when they were in his convertible. The law would accord her all her previous rights: she would return to the exact status out of which in his madness he had taken her. “Well?” she said, sitting down again. My profession has hardened me. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe.
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