“I should not dare to say that, until I had been put through the mill myself, and come out unpulverised.”
Miss Du Prel failed to see what there was so very dreadful in Mrs. Gordon’s lot. She had, perhaps, rather more children than was necessary, but otherwise——
“Oh, Miss Du Prel,” cried Hadria, “you might be a mere man! That is just what my brothers say.”
“I don’t understand what you mean,” said Miss Du Prel. “Do explain.”
“Do you actually—you of all people—not recognize and hate the idea that lies so obviously at the root of all the life that is swarming round us——?”
Valeria studied her companion’s excited face.
“Are you in revolt against the very basis of existence?” she asked curiously.
“No: at least ... but this is not what I am driving at exactly,” replied Hadria, turning uneasily away from the close scrutiny. “Don’t you know—oh, don’t you see—how many women secretly hate, and shrink from this brutal domestic idea that fashions their fate for them?”
Miss Du Prel’s interest quickened.
“Nothing strikes me so much as the tamely acquiescent spirit of the average woman, and I doubt if you would find another woman in England to describe the domestic existence as you do.”