Here was a thundering blow. “Go to the far corner,” he said, “and sing the last verse of Les Petites. 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. Sheppard, faintly. I must take you to the Suffrage people, and the Tolstoyans, and the Fabians. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. " She pursed her lips and uttered a whistle, piercingly shrill and high; and instantly she became the object of intense astonishment on the part of the other diners.
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