Do you know how late it is?” She nodded. Then there was also the horse. His patient was distinctly of a different order of life. At any rate he made it very clear that night that there was an ineradicable discord in life, a jarring something that must shatter all her dreams of a way of living for women that would enable them to be free and spacious and friendly with men, and that was the passionate predisposition of men to believe that the love of women can be earned and won and controlled and compelled. I didn’t! I didn’t! After all—” For a time her mind ran on daintiness and its defensive restraints as though it was the one desirable thing. "And the will?" he said, with forced calmness. 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. “Dear husband,” she murmured. He divorced her. It was at his side below the breast, hidden by the dark colour of his close-fitting jacket. You mustn’t go clawing after a man that doesn’t belong to you—that isn’t even interested in you. ’ ‘It is you who will get the head blown off,’ threatened the young lady fiercely. Heedless, however, of the consequences, he pursued his task.
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