Much too formal for a cosy chat between old friends. Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy. At least that, I think, is what makes a clever woman’s independent career so much more difficult than a clever man’s. “My husband and all his friends are fools, and the life they lead is impossible for me.
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