Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. 1. I mean I’m not a good specimen of a woman. “What can one say?” she exclaimed. ” Pause. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. ’ Triumph leapt in Gerald’s chest.
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