“Don’t fence with me,” Anna cried fiercely. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. Wherever I saw him, I should pick him out as a man designed by nature to plan and accomplish the wonderful escapes he has effected. That ring manifestly occupied her thoughts a great deal. Had it not been lashed to the adjoining wherry, it must have been upset, and have precipitated the opponents into the water.
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