‘Get the swords!’ ‘I’ll see to him. I had consecrated my life to His Work; and I took the primrose path. He certainly bore inspection. ’ A sudden thought brought a frown to her brow. 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. He looked at her in some embarrassment. Lad, I admire you even in your folly. He was a philosopher. A remittance man. Her pulses began to race. If you talk of your faults, I shall talk of your splendors. He asked her whether she understood what she was saying, and went on to say still more precisely that she should never touch a penny of his money until she came home again—not one penny.
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