He was speechless. She snatched about in her mind. 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. "Gentlemen," returned the Master, solemnly, "it is a question easily answered— they are NOWHERE! Had they hanged the bailiffs, the bailiffs would not have hanged them. Then he sat down again in a chair and said that people who wrote novels ought to be strung up.
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