As a rule, Courtlaw told her softly, he talked right and left, and to everybody throughout the whole of the meal—tonight he was almost silent, and seemed to devote his whole attention to staring at Anna. 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. . ‘The man’s gone,’ her old nurse told her, when she had recovered a little. . She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly. ’ ‘Like this?’ ‘Parfait. A young man with shiny frock coat and very high collar, advanced towards her languidly.
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