He was not, it seemed, the proper stipendiary at all, and there had been some demur to his jurisdiction that had ruffled him. But perhaps I had better get a room in an hotel to-night and look round. 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. When she tried to speak she found it difficult.
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