[ She despises this world and all its sharp blades concealed by insincere softness. To coerce and call it duty. To dispense favors to consolidate one's own power and call it charity. Through the entire day, she has followed their orders to see how it might feel to live under someone else's thumb, and thinks she is beginning to learn what it means to resent. It makes her wonder if the people have been told for so long that love is war and war is peace that they can no longer tell the difference. Oh, it makes her seethe with rage.

But you wouldn't know it by how loosely she clasps her hands over her belly, how calm her predisposition even as she steps onto the road and into the scene.]

Pitiful men. [ The anger is all in her eyes and in her voice, loud and firm, meant for everyone in the Bazaar to hear. ] Have you lost control of your arm that I find you here, beating a woman and a child -- and a puppy? Or is it your body that is no longer yours?