’ ‘On the contrary. Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. I am safe while I am there, for I have had bolts fitted everywhere, and a pane of glass in the front door. It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park. Now you haven’t the ghost of one—not if you play the game fair. Nobody regards Constance or Vee as a delicate trifle.
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