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“Fine. 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. “You’ve got to take the decent reasonable way. "Going to befuddle himself between now and dinner," was the comment of Prudence. I have healed and I am still your wife!\" She looked at him desperately, his eyes illuminated by firelight. Afterwards we started for déjeuner in a motor. Coming from the gloom of the passage, even the corridors seemed sufficiently illuminated for them to see their way. “And all the rest of it perhaps is a song.
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