” “But there is something more. She watched for five minutes until he completely disappeared over Pine Crest, past the yellow fire hydrant and the dented stop sign. 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. Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done. Why wasn't the world full of love, when love made happiness? Why did people hide their natural kindliness as if it were something shameful? Why shouldn't people say what they thought and act as they were inclined? Why all this pother about what one's neighbour thought, when this pother was not energized by any good will? Why was truth avoided as the plague? Why did this young man have one name on the hotel register and another on his lips? Why was she bothering about him at all? Why should there be this inexplicable compassion, when the normal sensation should have been repellance? Sidney Carton. “You ass and imbecile, Ann Veronica! You female cad! Cad! Cad!. ’ Gerald dropped down to join her just as her hand came up, clutching the handle. ’ ‘Also stealing,’ added Gerald, with a gesture at the clothes on the bed. Her mother….
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