She ran to the lamp and extinguished it. Goopes, she was sure was always high-browed and slow and Socratic. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. Nature is a mother; her sympathies have always been feminist, and she has tempered the man to the shorn woman. " "This is folly," cried Jack, controlling himself by a powerful effort. ‘Come on, Hilary. CHAPTER XV.
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