The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. There was something holding women down, holding women back, and if it wasn’t exactly man-made law, man-made law was an aspect of it. I don’t want to know. Life is a patchwork of impressions, of vanishing personalities. Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount. " He rose for fear she might touch him again. Only of course I must begin something else at once. I haven't touched the other.
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