‘That little kiss cost him his sanctuary, my girl, and don’t you forget it. A hollow plunge, echoed and re-echoed by the walls, marked his descent into the water. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions.
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