She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. "Damnation!" exclaimed one of the leaders of the party in a furious tone, snatching a torch from an attendant, and throwing its light full upon the face of the carpenter; "this is not the villain, Sir Cecil. 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. “Flesh and flowers are all alike to me. Even the most sullen and withdrawn were sensitive to the penetrating nastiness of the fog. ’ Then she ran swiftly out of the library, calling out as her cavalier was almost at the front door.
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