“No. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. No one spoke to her. "You will never leave me," sobbed the poor woman, straining him to her breast. " "So it is, child. She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. ” “I will think of it,” she repeated. " "Bah!" ejaculated Marvel, gruffly. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. In an instant, she turned on him.
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