Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. You cannot care for her. ’ ‘And you will not,’ came triumphantly from the cherry lips. “Only so many men neglect their duties. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it.
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