th the
grinning assistance of the onlookers, the facts of the social scheme
were cynically revealed, and the _role_ imperiously allotted--with much
admonition and moving appeals to conscience and religion, and all the
other aides-de-camp at command--after all that, how in the name of
heaven could they continue to "babble of green fields"? Was it
conceivable that among the thousands of women to whom year after year
the facts were disclosed, not one understood and not one--_hated_?

A flame sprang up in Hadria's eyes. There _must_ be other women
somewhere at this very moment, whose whole being was burning up with
this bitter, this sickening and futile hatred! But how few, how few! How
vast was the meek majority, fattening on indignity, proud of their
humiliation! Yet how wise they were after all. It hurt so to hate--to
hate like this. Submission was an affair of temperament, a gift of
birth. Nature endowed with a serviceable meekness those whom she
designed for insult. Yet it might not be meekness so much as mere brutal
necessity that held them all in thrall--the inexorable logic of
conditions. Fate knew better than to assail the victim point blank, and
so put her on her guard. No; she lured her on gently, cunningly, closing
behind her, one by one, the doors of escape, persuading her, forcing her
to fasten on her own tethers, appealing to a thousand qualities, good
and bad; now to a moment's weakness or pity, now to her eternal fear of
grieving others (_that_ was a well-worked vein!), now to her instinct of
self-sacrifice, now to grim necessity itself, profiting too by the
increasing discouragements, the vain efforts, the physical pain and
horrible weariness, the crowding of little difficulties, harassments,
the troubles of others--ah! how infinite were these! so that there was
no interval for breathing, and scarcely time or space to cope with the
legions of the moment; the horizon was black with their advancing hosts!

And this assuredly was no unique experience. Hadria remembered how she
had once said that if the worst came to the worst, it would be easy to
run away. To her inexperience desperate remedies had seemed so simple,
so feasible--the factors of life so few and unentwined. She had not
understood how prolific are our deeds, how an act brings with it a large
and unexpected progeny, which surround us with new influences and force
upon us unforeseen conditions. Yet frequent had been the impulse to
adopt that girli