A girl of fifteen or sixteen gave her a handbill that she regarded as a tract until she saw “Votes for Women” at the top. For all her begging she had been given the choice to go into the nunnery and “learn how to read scrolls with the rest of God’s Spinsters” by her father, but had quickly lost interest when presented with the idea of bearing babies. The chair was torture. “You didn’t expect that I should kiss you?” “How was I to know that a man would—would think it was possible—when there was nothing—no love?” “How did I know there wasn’t love?” That silenced her for a moment. As for loving you, I do. He ate of the bread with great appetite, and having drunk as much as he chose of the water, poured the rest on the floor.
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