She was suddenly grave. ’ Joan sniffed. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested. If all wives were of my mind and my spirit, husbands would soon be taught their own insignificance. She told him the story of her parents, her marriage to Iovelli, the loss of her baby, the kidnapping after the miscarriage. “Not for these things, O Ann Veronica, have you revolted,” it said; “and this is not your appropriate purpose.
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