Sheppard remained dissolved in tears. Women! He is always chanting the praise of some discovery; sometimes it will be a native, often a white woman out of the stews. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. She gazed with a quiet detachment toward the window and the Oxford Street traffic, and in her heart she was busy kicking this man to death. Some of the meetings are wonderful! Such earnest, beautiful women! Such deepbrowed men!. She and her husband have no children and ten computers. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face.
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