" There was a momentary and terrible silence, broken only by a few feeble groans. Her heavy pistol came up again, although she did not rise. “Don’t ask me to tell you all that women can do, all that women can be. “I was in Paris four years ago,” Mr. " "I see. For now, I fear there is something worse, something more present. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity.
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