‘Why, that’s one of the names with which she tried to fob me off. His hair is oddly streaked with gray —I might say a dishonourable gray. Kneebone, I came hither as your guest. 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. They trudged and talked, and Manning struggled, as he said, to “get the hang of it all.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 08-09-2024 13:59:52
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