But he seized the chance to entrap her fingers, fan and all, and look deeply into her eyes. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. Anything that might stir the sense of love And God has mocked me through it all. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects.
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