ToC The ward into which Jack was endeavouring to break was called the Red Room, from the circumstance of its walls having once been painted in that colour; all traces of which had, however, long since disappeared. Then she would have quiet times, in which she would say to herself, “Now look here! Let me think it all out!” For the first time, it seemed to her, she faced the facts of a woman’s position in the world—the meagre realities of such freedom as it permitted her, the almost unavoidable obligation to some individual man under which she must labor for even a foothold in the world. ‘I’m only surprised you have not released yourself. . “Is it any one you know?” Brendon asked. His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance. ‘Jacques!’ He stopped, but he did not turn. . ‘Come along. He could not understand how men could live ignoring this one predominant interest, this wonderful research into personality and the possibilities of pleasing, these complex, fascinating expeditions that began in interest and mounted to the supremest, most passionate intimacy. She kissed him with a closed mouth, not as recklessly as she was tempted to do. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. She was the High Priestess.
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