We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. "Do you call neglecting your work, and singing flash songs nothing? Zounds! you incorrigible rascal, many a master would have taken you before a magistrate, and prayed for your solitary confinement in Bridewell for the least of these offences. ’ ‘But, no,’ She dimpled. There is nobody, then?" "Oh, there is an aunt. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers. He lifted her from the floor. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. She entered the last room, his bedroom. " "Would you like to have me read to you?" He did not answer. " "Norris!" gasped Lady Trafford, trembling violently.
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