I’d ruin the things if I so much as touched one. . "Your son," replied Jack,—"your miserable, repentant son. She looked up and said, a little breathlessly, “I’m sorry, aunt, but I don’t think I can. He contrasted the lot of women in general with the lot of men, presented men as patient, self-immolating martyrs, and women as the pampered favorites of Nature. She must learn wisdom—as God pleases. Oh God! my limbs fail me.
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