” 224 < 28 > RHEA AND THE ORACLE She went inside the house, thinking of Sebastian, worrying. He bullied frankly. “I don’t have time for this. You're the first widow I ever heard of who could withstand that lure. But something instinctive prevented that, and with the finest resolve not to be “silly” and prudish she found that whenever he became at all bold in this matter she became severely scientific and impersonal, almost entomological indeed, in her method; she killed every remark as he made it and pinned it out for examination. Even if you were sick in the mind and did not understand what you were doing, it's a mighty cruel thing you have done. He’s a prig to the finger-tips, is Sir John—doesn’t know what an artist is. She came in now with an air of reserved solicitude. If you can tell me nothing I don’t already know, so be it. “I want a vote for myself,” she said. “My friends,” she said, “my dear friends, I am going to make the same answer to all of you—and that is perhaps you will say no answer at all. “The young women of Jane Austen’s time didn’t get into this sort of scrape! At least—one thinks so. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband.
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