Status Updates From Una habitación propia

I don't know how so many people like this book; I feel like I'm forcing myself to read it.

“His was the power and the money and the influence. […] He will decide if the hair on the meat ax is human; he it is who will acquit or convict the murderer, and hang him, or let him go free. With the exception of the fog he seemed to control everything. Yet he was angry. […] it seemed absurd, I thought, […], that a man with all this power should be angry.”

The scene, if I may ask you to follow me, was now changed. The leaves were still falling, but in London now, not Oxbridge; and I must ask you to imagine a room, like many thousands, with a window looking across people's hats and vans and motor-cars to other windows, and on the table inside the room a blank sheet of paper on which was written in large letters WOMEN AND FICTION, but no more.