The transverse spars before mentioned were as slippery as ice; and the hollows between them were filled ankle-deep with water. 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. The pistol fell to the floor. When Sheila was in a good mood, one almost enjoyed her. ’ ‘But it is a very good English name,’ she protested.
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