” “YOU ASKED YOUR FATHER FOR A REASON!” said Miss Miniver, with great intensity. She was too wrapped up in the sheer joy of playing again; it had 201 been intimate, masturbatory. She left for good after he fell asleep. You never can tell. 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. "What's that?—Jack's voice!" "It is," replied her son. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. .
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