Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. ” “I had some unexpected business,” Courtlaw answered shortly. Their minds are turned against him. Sheppard. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. Courtlaw might have been able to give me an idea where to stop.
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