For whom had its sharp point been intended? Valade? Or perhaps his wife now that the girl had word of their marriage. ‘Bête,’ she flung at him. 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. ’ ‘So this is the way you serve me,’ exclaimed Melusine, her quick temper flaring as she jumped up, slammed her hands on the desk and leaned towards him over it. Edward Bribble stood between them with an open book.
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