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. To find the incentive! But how? Thither and yon the idea roved, seeking the way. “Maternity,” she said, “has been our undoing. To surrender himself to the law, to face trial and imprisonment, was out of the question. You have threatened to kill me for nothing, I know not how many times. After all, it came to him suddenly as a harsh discovery that she might be in a sense regarded as grownup. It may only be used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. Raymond Plote would only be missed by his mother.
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