“And me. You are my wife now and you belong to me. At any rate he made it very clear that night that there was an ineradicable discord in life, a jarring something that must shatter all her dreams of a way of living for women that would enable them to be free and spacious and friendly with men, and that was the passionate predisposition of men to believe that the love of women can be earned and won and controlled and compelled. I did not know what God had in mind then. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. When they were going home she asked her mother why she and Gwen and Alice had cried. .
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