167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. Yet an indiscriminating, wrong-headed world gave such fellows all sorts of distinctions. It was a huge stone placed there by some workmen occupied in repairing the structure. . She put down the sketch-books and apparatus she had brought with her, pulled out her stool, and sat down. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. This smile was more harrowing even than her former rigid look. I love your very breath. I expect Mr. He contrasted the lot of women in general with the lot of men, presented men as patient, self-immolating martyrs, and women as the pampered favorites of Nature.
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