Her voice recalled him. Wood required little pressing. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. Confound this slavery of sex! I am a man! I will get this under if I am killed in doing it!” She scowled into the cold blacknesses about her. She did not want particularly to know what had caused his agony, what had driven him back to the old coat. She was keenly resolved to do well in the school examination, and not to be drowned in the seas of emotion that threatened to submerge her intellectual being. 1 with active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project Gutenberg-tm License.
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