‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. For most of a long and fluctuating night she was fairly confident that she would find work; she knew herself to be strong, intelligent, and capable by the standards of most of the girls she knew. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations. . I made it a point to bring beachcombers to the house to fill her with horror of mankind. .
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