“It is the first moment we have let him out of our sight,” Brendon exclaimed, as he hastened across the street. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. It was all highly intriguing. “You seem to forget that my sister is—married. There was an eerie sense of brooding menace about an uninhabited establishment.
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