It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park. I want my freedom. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer the way I did—and do. “Perhaps,” he queried, “you wish to avoid being seen about with any one—er— connected with the profession, under present circumstances. “Let us walk across the Park at least,” he said to Ann Veronica. And let's see if either of these women, who prate of their love for you, will do as much.
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