. " "Hear me, Madam, I beseech you," interposed Mrs. She propped a pillow against his padded headboard and sat herself into a stiff upright position, legs expertly crossed. Perhaps these few words were the first real conscious words he had uttered in days. Her eyes where glassy and shining. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. She responded at once, rapping him on the knuckles with her fan. She was new, unlike any other woman he had met in all his wide travel. What she actually wanted was the present state of affairs to continue indefinitely.
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