So she read the note, and then sent it down to be put on Mr.Trevelyan's table in an envelope addressed to him.
"If he is not altogether blinded, it will show him how cruelly he has wronged me," said she to her sister.

She was sitting at the time with her boy in her lap, telling herself that the child's features were in all respects the very same as his father's, and that, come what come might, the child should always be taught by her to love and respect his father.

And then there came a horrible thought.

What if the child should be taken away from her?
If this quarrel, out of which she saw no present mode of escape, were to lead to a separation between her and her husband, would not the law, and the judges, and the courts, and all the Lady Milboroughs of their joint acquaintance into the bargain, say that the child should go with his father?
The judges, and the courts, and the Lady Milboroughs would, of course, say that she was the sinner.

And what could she do without her boy?
Would not any humility, any grovelling in the dust be better for her than that?
"It is a very poor thing to be a woman," she said to her sister.
"It is perhaps better than being a dog," said Nora; "but, of course, we can't compare ourselves to men." "It would be better to be a dog.