See what crime does, Sir. The vestry door opened to the mews behind, and not to Golden Square. Ireton rushed forward to open the wicket for him. ‘You cannot be always with me. You understand. 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.
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