But you,” he continued, moving imperceptibility a little nearer to her, “you are mine. 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 have brought disgrace upon you, and I haven’t been the right sort of wife at all. In the middle there was a gate. F. Just me and another girl named Krista who turned eighteen and left right about when I got there.
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