In the afternoon my brain and fingers leap to their work because you have been with me. Martha said to me that it must come to the bibliothéque. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. “What have I been all this time?” she asked herself, and answered, “Just stark egotism, crude assertion of Ann Veronica, without a modest rag of religion or discipline or respect for authority to cover me!” It seemed to her as though she had at last found the touchstone of conduct. There would be ultimate misery, but it would be needless cruelty to give her a push toward it.
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