A man came out, and walking recklessly, almost cannoned into Ennison. “I would give my life for you. Either Sydney or Mr. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check. “I didn’t know you were half-Gypsy either. I bored him. “Why should women be dependent on men?” she asked; and the question was at once converted into a system of variations upon the theme of “Why are things as they are?”—“Why are human beings viviparous?”—“Why are people hungry thrice a day?”—“Why does one faint at danger?” She stood for a time looking at the dry limbs and still human face of that desiccated unwrapped mummy from the very beginnings of social life. E. Her name was Rhea. "What?—help take care of him? Why, you can't do that, Miss Enschede!" was the protest.
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