She was shaking violently when she entered the side door of the house. I didn’t go out of my way or anything. The drunken beachcombers; the one-sided education; the utter loneliness of a white child without playfellows, human or animal, without fairy stories, who for days was left alone while the father visited neighbouring islands, these pictures sank far below their actual importance. "For me—his master, Mr. All the best novels have been written by women, and yet see how men sneer at the lady novelist still! There’s only one way to get on for a woman, and that is to please men. “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. “And now, look at us! See what we have become. But, by Jove! you are fierce! You are like those Roman women who carry stilettos in their hair. That is what I’ve had on my conscience.
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