But it was the form of her ruling determination; it was the only form that she ever allowed to see daylight. And then her pace slackened. ’ ‘Parbleu, it is I who am the idiot?’ she scolded furiously, removing one hand and digging it into her sleeve. He had no ideas about daughters. It was excellently done, especially as she loved good dinners. 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 took up a book and threw it down again. The girl, with a little moan, crossed the room and threw open the window. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. And she defies me.
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