nurses and serves, and is worshipped and betrayed—the martyr-queen of men, the white mother.... You can't do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there's no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap.
"I'm not gentle. Certainly not a gentlewoman.
"I'm not coarse—no! But I've got no purity of mind—no real purity of mind. A good woman's mind has angels with flaming swords at the portals to keep out fallen thoughts....
"I wonder if there are any good women really.
"I wish I didn't swear. I do swear. It began as a joke.... It developed into a sort of secret and private bad manners. It's got to be at last like tobacco-ash over all my sayings and doings....
"'Go it, missie,' they said; "kick aht!'
"I swore at that policeman—and disgusted him. Disgusted him!
"For men policemen never blush; A man in all things scores so much...
"Damn! Things are getting plainer. It must be the dawn creeping in.
"Now here hath been dawning another blue day; I'm just a poor woman, please take it away.
"Oh, sleep! Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!"
Part 2
"Now," said Ann Veronica, after the half-hour of exercise, and sitting on the uncomfortable wooden seat