Em wished that he would still sometimes talk of the strength of the master-right of man; but Gregory was as one smitten on the cheek-bone.
She might do what she pleased, he would find no fault, had no word to say.

He had forgotten that it is man's right to rule.

On that rainy morning he had lighted his pipe at the kitchen fire, and when breakfast was over stood in the front door watching the water rush down the road till the pipe died out in his mouth.

Em saw she must do something for him, and found him a large calico duster.

He had sometimes talked of putting the loft neat, and today she could find nothing else for him to do.