He opened the door of still another room, in one corner of which was a grand piano. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. The children made us slaves, and the men took advantage of it. It was really most vivid, most vivid! You seemed to be slipping and just going to tumble and holding on. Don’t think I can’t sympathize and understand.
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