Every home is a little recess, a niche, out of the world of business and competition, in which women and the future shelter. The doctor laughed. "You are my prisoner. ‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon. Even in the daylight, it had a sombre and suspicious air, and seemed to slink back from the adjoining houses, as if afraid of their society.
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