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. "Won't you take these?" For a space he merely stared at her, perhaps wondering if she were real. " "A young fellow who thinks he's in love, when he has only been reading too much. "There's the house," said Jack, pointing to a pretty cottage, the small wooden porch of which was covered with roses and creepers, with a little trim garden in front of it. "Hear the letter," said Ireton, breaking the seal.
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