“You look nice today, Lucy. They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. 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. "He will live," answered Ruth. ’ ‘Ah. “I’ve been thinking—all the afternoon.
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