The parlour was cluttered but cosy. “What’s the objection?” “I suppose she ought to know?” said Gwen to her mother, trying to alter the key of the conversation. There was a round table covered, not with the usual “tapestry” cover, but with a plain green cloth that went passably with the wall-paper. ‘Yes, but I do not know why he should wish to do so, and therefore I cannot permit that he interferes. 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. "Yes. If you had any idea what depths people have sunken to as you reside safely in this high fortress, you would search your soul to find the mote of charity left there. Something softened in Melusine’s chest.
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