‘That would have grieved Jarvis. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. 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 wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively. She had resisted as long as she could; then she had stolen over.
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