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The scanty furniture of the rooms corresponded with their dungeon-like aspect. He touched her breast as if he was testing the waters of a cold lake. Her sense of humour could not wholly resist his abnormal gravity. 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. Even there a woman never gets a fair chance. Any one very badly moved choked down a few mouthfuls; the symptom of supreme distress was not to be able to touch a bit. This one too she read.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 23-09-2024 01:53:33