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Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. These joyful bounds just lace into the stuff of my memories and stay there forever. “Have some more port wine, sir?” “It’s a very sound wine,” said Mr. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. "You poor child!" said Prudence. Bold women certainly existed in the Middle Ages--Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales is evidence of this--but meek women were probably the norm, good Christian family ladies who wanted nothing more than to serve God and have children. Where I am in error, you can set me right. The Red Room.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 27-09-2024 18:13:40