We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. ” “But you,” she exclaimed, “you are not coming. He is here by your side. What would he come as? Presently she roused herself with a guilty start from the task of dressing and re-dressing Mr. “I have been very selfish,” she declared. " "I do remember it, Sir," replied Mrs. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor.
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