She always managed to get back to the bungalow before he did. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook. He waited for an instant, wasting an encouraging smile in the imperfect light, and then shut the doors of the van, leaving the women in darkness. It is her duty to tell me, and I would not have her think that I had been trying to work upon your sympathies to learn her secrets. 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. Her evident terror and distress reinforced the tale he told. " So saying, he hurried up stairs, opened the back door, and was quickly in the yard. ” “Perhaps I don’t. However, if you must air your opinions—” “To-night, then, daddy!” He made an angry but conceivably an assenting noise, and then Ramage glanced back and stopped, saluted elaborately, and waited for them to come up.
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