She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. 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. I hope you will always remember——” Annabel held out her hands with a little cry of protest. You've betrayed yourself, Thames. Fortescue?” “At your service.
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