She confronted him with his own double-standard. And, if I'd my own way, I'd drown 'em all like a litter o' puppies. At the end of two long lines of foot-guards stood the cart with a powerful black horse harnessed to it. For all her begging she had been given the choice to go into the nunnery and “learn how to read scrolls with the rest of God’s Spinsters” by her father, but had quickly lost interest when presented with the idea of bearing babies. Of what was she thinking? She must rescue herself. She felt privileged above other women at parties, where she was on display as all the duchesses and queens looked upon her with envy as he was so clearly entranced by her in every way. That’s all. He's safe enough now. Her natural instincts reasserted themselves. Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire. That is so awful.
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