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I will no longer be a burthen to those upon whom I have no claim, but compassion. ’ It was the Press who forced the identity upon me. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. At times he seemed to be claiming pity from her; at times he was threatening her with her check and exposure; at times he was boasting of his inflexible will, and how, in the end, he always got what he wanted. ” (Fifteen pounds. 1. “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. “I’ve been thinking of you all night,” she answered. ‘Well! I hadn’t no notion as he’d got hisself married again. I must see if I have a gown fit to wear.
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