“I didn’t understand, Vee. They came teeming distressfully through her aching brain: “A man can kick, his skirts don’t tear; A man scores always, everywhere. But a doll that rolled its eyes and had flaxen hair! Except for the manual labour—there had been natives to fetch and carry—she and Cosette were sisters in loneliness. The houses loomed progressively larger as one strode up the block, growing from ranch to two-story, from squat 1950's modern to stately 1890's palace. The stranger started at the touch, and spoke. He looked at her reproachfully. Too intent on her search, and convinced besides that she was quite alone, she had been an easy prey. Once before—but that had been different. If I'd not gone mad, they would have hanged me.
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