Even she had guarded her soul against him.

She was not overthrown, not prostrated, not even much hurt.
She had known.

Only why, as he sat there, had he still this strange dominance over her?
His very movements fascinated her as if she were hypnotised by him.

Yet he was despicable, false, inconsistent, and mean.
Why this bondage for her?
Why was it the movement of his arm stirred her as nothing else in the world could?
Why was she fastened to him?
Why, even now, if he looked at her and commanded her, would she have to obey?
She would obey him in his trifling commands.

But once he was obeyed, then she had him in her power, she knew, to lead him where she would.
She was sure of herself.