“I should join a brotherhood.”
“Oh....”
“That is the life I should choose.”
“Do you see how unfair everything is?”
“Um?”
“If a woman joins an order she must confess to a man.”
“Yes,” he said indifferently.... “I can’t carry out my wish, I can’t carry out my dearest wish.”
“You have a dearest wish; that is a good deal.”
She ought to ask him why not and what he was going to do. But what did it matter? He was going unwillingly along some dreary path. There was some weak helplessness about him. He would always have a grievance and be sorry for himself ... self-pity. She remained silent.
“I’m training for the Bar,” he murmured, staring away across the neighbouring gardens.