"But—sapperment!—I wish they hadn't broken my pipe. ’ ‘But, Hilary—’ ‘Don’t you begin, Lucilla, for I won’t stand for it. Her foster parents had attended the concert in their finest clothes, Cathy in a new JC Penney dress, Larry in a suit that was too small. Never had he been so intrigued. “The fool I have been!” he cried; and now speech was coming to him. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. The resemblance was amazing! And some man—he was good-looking—was in the background. " The tone was neutral. And guess what? I don’t sleep much, if you haven’t noticed.
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