Then she would have quiet times, in which she would say to herself, “Now look here! Let me think it all out!” For the first time, it seemed to her, she faced the facts of a woman’s position in the world—the meagre realities of such freedom as it permitted her, the almost unavoidable obligation to some individual man under which she must labor for even a foothold in the world. Crossing several fields, newly mown, or filled with lines of tedded hay, she arrived, not without great exertion, at the summit of a hill. “I should kill you. He did not write this with lead but with his heart's blood. F. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. They are the only happy women in the Orient.
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