He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. I don’t suppose you could tell me even the derivation of suffrage if I asked you. Very intelligent, by the looks of the books she was carrying. You speak as one injured—as though I had been the one to take your name—as though you had been the one to make sacrifices. . Shakily, she rose with the sword and drove it through Rhea’s heart.
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