"Farewell!" cried Jack, breaking from them, and rushing down the street. ‘I—I mean, she were—’ ‘Pretty as a picture?’ suggested Gerald. But not so much a pig as that man. Always I have said I will take care of myself, and I have done so. He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him. Why shouldn’t we be martyrs? There’s nothing else for most of us, anyhow. She refused to eat.
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