Pale, flesh-colored light filtered in through the corners of the house. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. . . There was something holding women down, holding women back, and if it wasn’t exactly man-made law, man-made law was an aspect of it. Captain Roding either did not know, or did not remember that she had it. He had chosen his time well. It was immediately opened by a man with light eyelashes and a manner suggestive of restrained passion.
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