She taught him all the lore she had; about bird-life and tree-life and the changing mysteries of the sea. “We will do Paris like the tourists, and thank God here comes dinner. When she saw Ann Veronica she stood for a moment as if entranced, and then advanced with outstretched hands. My will never faltered. I suppose the phrase—the word—originally meant a man who searched for food on the beach. 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. He knew.
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