At the Palazzo, the cook’s cook had a team of servants under him. ’ He had abandoned the “sir”, Gerald noted, realising that the footman’s respect for him had dropped sharply. As pretty as its owner. Of course, he had no idea who I was. But her great-aunt was nodding, as if this was what she had expected. “Why should women be dependent on men?” she asked; and the question was at once converted into a system of variations upon the theme of “Why are things as they are?”—“Why are human beings viviparous?”—“Why are people hungry thrice a day?”—“Why does one faint at danger?” She stood for a time looking at the dry limbs and still human face of that desiccated unwrapped mummy from the very beginnings of social life. III.
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