Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. He backed away from her. And not on Melusine’s account, but to see Prudence, who had no use for a cavalier. The child was still safe. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. Wood was not particularly fortunate in his own matrimonial connections. She was shaking violently when she entered the side door of the house. "I suppose it didn't drop through the ceiling, did it? Are you quite sure it's flesh and blood?" asked he, playfully pinching its arm till it cried out with pain. His efforts at self-destruction were, however, prevented. He never said hello, as if it had become a personal taboo for him.
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