I followed you in. “Good God!” he exclaimed. He did not stagger in the least. His eyes closed. The old lady’s face was stiff with anger. She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. "You will be wanting your broth, Hoddy," she said.
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