"Indeed," said Mrs. M- with a smile."Our male slaves have either run off or been taken by the British," said Mrs. Van S-. "There are a number of chore... that need a man's hand." I'm still a bit weak," I said, "but I'll get to them tomorrow, I hope."We dined and I ate well. I sat on the porch some more, smoked a clay pipe that one of the maids found for me and enjoyed the life of leisure. By the time the sun went down, I felt almost myself and took a brisk walk in the fast-fading twilight until. How could you DO this to YOURSELF? What have you DONE?And then instantly every fiber of your being glows white hot and you hateevery moment of it, every little sensation; The ridiculous ultra-femininemannerisms that have become second nature. The strain on your archedfeet, the tight corset limiting you to shallow breaths, the weight ofyour prissy, colored, dated hairstyle, the breeze tickling your exposedthighs, and the tight, short, frilly and LOUD dress that no real girlwould ever be caught. More

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