“Many nights I have thought of you, Anna. Courtlaw, is it not,” she remarked, with lifted eyebrows. What a pity! For all her ignorance of material things—the human inventions which served the physical comforts of man—how much she knew about man himself! She had seen him bereft of all those spiritual props which permit man to walk on two feet instead of four—broken, without resilience. Spurlock (himself verging upon the hysterical) welcomed the diversion. Against the sinister, the threatening, monstrous inhumanity of the limitless city, there was nothing now but this supreme, ugly fact of a pursuit— the pursuit of the undesired, persistent male. She felt very cool as he opened the door for her, as if she should have chic sunglasses and stiletto heels on, dark red lipstick.
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