Moored to the steps, several wherries were dancing in the rushing current, as if impatient of restraint. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. I’ve got to stay at home and remain in a state of suspended animation. Who could say that the two weren't in collusion? When a chap like Spurlock jumped the traces, cherchez la femme, every time. I didn’t ought to have sent for him. “Anna!” she repeated. ” She shook her fist ceilingward. " "That sounds funny … to play it with your feet!" McClintock laughed. The echoes of his hard, unpleasant laugh reached Anna on her way upstairs. Nature is a mother; her sympathies have always been feminist, and she has tempered the man to the shorn woman.
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