When you don’t have any fingers left, I take a toe. How I wish I might meet this delightful mystery lady of yours. What is it?" "Is there anything I can do?" The idiocy of the question filled him with the craving of laughter. ’ ‘I will not. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. ” “A little pit!” said Ann Veronica; “a little prison!” “It’s just as often a little refuge.
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