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 still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. Wood, however, made known his presence to the individual by laying his hand upon his shoulder.
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This video was uploaded to www.needcom.in on 18-04-2024 06:17:44
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