She was strong, not unlike a pack mule or a camel; she thought to herself and smirked. Everybody, he felt, must be listening behind their papers. “Will you come in, Sir John. His father and mother are gone now. She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. Its walled heaved with black mildew and sea-salt. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll.
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