"Got the rooms mixed. Her feathered hat fell from her head and down her back, and she felt fingers writhing in the mass of her hair and caressing the flesh of her neck beneath so that she shivered uncontrollably. He would raise her up once again, ply her with silks and jewels again, all of the accoutrements of the new generation: the cars, the toys, the restaurants, and the prestige. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. Suspicion was in his face. . He seemed to know a great deal about life. She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. She offers me no explanation, permits me absolutely no hope. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. “In any case, there is probably some mistake. ’ Was there a careful note in her voice? Gerald gave no sign, keeping his own tone light. "Hands off!" she exclaimed, "or you'll repent it. He sees men all defiled by coarse thoughts, coarse ways of living cruelties.
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