Her soul hated it; she cried aloud for equal treatment, for a share of the iron and rigour of life.

Their manners were a mere cloak for contempt.

If they could only be rude to a woman, it would be a welcome relief from this facile condescension.

What had she or any woman with brains to do in that galley?
They despised her kind, with the scorn of sultans who chose their women-folk for looks and graces.
The thought was degrading, and a bitterness filled her heart against the whole clique of easy aristocrats.

Mr.Stocks was her true ally.