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. While the strife was raging, Edgeworth Bess walked up to Rachel, and advised her, if she valued her life, not to scream or stir from the spot; a caution which the housekeeper, whose curiosity far outweighed her fears, received in very good part. It was shameful, but again, her mother had prepared her for it. He kissed her lightly on the lips. The house was invisible from the road, and yet enormous once within view. Their soft, voluptuous bodies wove among each other to the faint notes of a lyre.
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