What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. As the wedding neared, she bought some finer things: a veal roast for supper, a single pearl for the dowry. That is what stands between us, if you would know—that. For a while he threatened her. "Come home directly, Sir. She parted the curtains to find him standing there. Her head had been shaved, and around it was swathed a piece of rag, in which a few straws were stuck. These galleries were separated in the middle by iron grates.
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