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. "Hoddy, Hoddy!… No, no! This is my father!" warned Ruth. "Oh! if I had known this," he exclaimed, "what guilt, what remorse might have been spared me!" "Repentance comes too late when the deed's done," returned Wild, bitterly. " "You'll do a national service, then," said Hogarth. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. “It is just a look.
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