“Never mind me. Giles's round-house on my own responsibility. Drink the toast, Jack. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. His instinct was in the direction of considering his daughters his absolute property, bound to obey him, his to give away or his to keep to be a comfort in his declining years just as he thought fit. Ramage seemed always fencing about the forbidden topic, probing for openings, and she wondered why she did not give him them. Here, it might be anything at all. He did like her, anyhow; he was always pleased to be with her. I would be too 222 busy protecting you.
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