“I would like to go home,” she cried, “to please her. She remembered him as a dull figure, a big man with a belly that was already showing fat under his fine scarlet clothes. He never asked questions; he never addressed his companions; and frequently he took off his cap and wiped his forehead. A remittance man. She tied the obi clumsily about her waist, then gently laid her hand on the bowed head. She exhorted Ann Veronica not to become one of “those unsexed intellectuals, neither man nor woman. "The Dutchman was right, after all. She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage.
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