The will to live had returned. She replied softly. "For me—his master, Mr. Hollyhocks make one think of a bright June Sunday and the way to church!" "Do you suppose that young fool has done anything?" The doctor shrugged. Instinctively she imitated this action, chilled and a little frightened at the expression of terror that confronted her. 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. She brought the cups of cocoa back to the bedroom. I have pleaded with her—no wonder that I have pleaded with her in vain. Each time also we quarrel, and even if you are laughing very much, you become angry.
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