‘I escape from a fate entirely misérable, you understand. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. I have come to you for sympathy, perhaps for help. A sense of impending disaster was upon him. The owner of this dress had a broad weather-beaten face, small twinkling eyes, and a bushy, grizzled beard. ‘That is better, no?’ ‘Dieu. He contrasted the lot of women in general with the lot of men, presented men as patient, self-immolating martyrs, and women as the pampered favorites of Nature.
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