“Injury,” he said, “of which serious traces remain at the end of twenty-four days; the destruction of a limb, or the deprivation, partial or total, of a sense.  I have often thought bitterly,” he continued, “of that boasted logic and liberality of our laws under which my daughters might have to endure almost any maltreatment from their husbands, so long as these have but the sense not to employ weapons that leave almost ineffaceable marks.  This is one main reason why we so anxiously avoid giving them save to those who are bound by the ties of our faith to treat them as kindly as children—­for whom, at the worst, they remain sisters of the Order.  If women generally had parents, our marriage law could never have carried out the fiction of equality to its logical perfection and practical monstrosity.”

“Equality, then, has given your women a harder life and a worse position than that of those women in our world who are, not only by law but by fact and custom, the slaves of their husbands?”

“Yes, indeed,” he said; “and our proverbs, though made by men, express this truth with a sharpness in which there is little exaggeration.  Our school textbooks tell us that action and reaction are equal and opposite; and this familiar phrase gives meaning to the saw, Pelmave dakal dake, ‘She is equal, the thing struck to the hammer,’ meaning that woman’s equality to man is no more effective than the reaction of the leather on the mallet.  ’Bitterer smiles of twelve than tears of ten’ (referring to the age of marriage). Thleen delkint treen lalfe zevleen, ‘’Twixt fogs and clouds she dreams of stars.’”

“What does that mean?”

“Would you not render it in the terminology of the hymn you translated for us, ‘Between Purgatory and Hell, one dream of Heaven?’ Still puzzled?  ’Between the harshness of school and the misery of marriage, the illusions of the bride.’  Again, Zefoo zevleel, zave marneel, clafte cratheneel, ’A child [cries] for the stars, a maiden for the matron’s dress, a woman for her shroud.’”

“Do you mean to say that that is not exaggerated?”

“I suppose it is, as women are even less given to suicide than men.  That is perhaps the ugliest proverb of its kind.  I will only quote one more, and that is two-edged—­

 “’Fool he who heeds a woman’s tears, to woman’s tongue replies;
   Fool she who braves man’s hand—­but when was man or woman wise?’”

Here Zulve came to the door and made a sign to her husband.  Waiting courteously to ascertain that I had finished speaking, and until his son had somewhat ceremoniously taken leave of me, he led me to the door of a chamber next to that I had hitherto occupied.  Pausing here himself, he motioned me to go on, and the door parting, I found myself in a room I had not before entered, about the same size as my own and similarly furnished, but differently coloured, now communicating with it by a door which I knew had not previously existed.  Here were Eveena’s mother and sister, dressed as usual.