“The unaccountable thing is that I wouldn’t go home to please her. I've no doubt he's as honest as either of you. You have all the earmarks of a fugitive from justice. I hate what I am. “You, too,” he said abruptly. At any rate he made it very clear that night that there was an ineradicable discord in life, a jarring something that must shatter all her dreams of a way of living for women that would enable them to be free and spacious and friendly with men, and that was the passionate predisposition of men to believe that the love of women can be earned and won and controlled and compelled. I’m damaged goods. A sound sleeper, she was not roused by the creaky openings and closings of drawers as Lucy packed a single duffle bag with underwear and soap that was pilfered from a multipack of Zest in the Beck’s downstairs bathroom. " "Others may, if you won't," muttered Jack, retiring. " "Here you have it, my dear," returned the hawker.
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