But are we any more free?” “Well?” “I mean we’ve long strings to tether us, but we are bound all the same. There will be long stretches of idleness, heat, and enervation; and always the odour of drying coconut. She appeared to be considering. During this dreadful pause the wretched man felt for his sword. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. She was her mother’s child, fair of face, doted upon and spoiled by her attentions.
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