” Sir John coughed. But she certainly remembered that when she was a little girl he sometimes wore tennis flannels, and also rode a bicycle very dexterously in through the gates to the front door. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. There’s the internal factor as well as the external. “Why on earth did you TELL me?” he cried. . One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. If you had any idea what depths people have sunken to as you reside safely in this high fortress, you would search your soul to find the mote of charity left there.
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