“My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. So that the thought of Ann Veronica up-stairs had been extremely painful for her through all the silent dinner-time that night. My dear! we’ve had so many moments! I used to go over the times we’d had together, the things we’d said—like a rosary of beads. "Oh, God! that I might die too," cried Jack, falling on his knees beside her. She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool.
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