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She was my first love. "This is very fine of you, Miss…. ” “Of course,” he said, reaching out his hand tentatively for his hat, “I could go away even now. "You think our sex has no feeling, I suppose, Sir," cried Mrs. Wood rushed instantly to meet them. “You can’t think that I’m fool enough to be put off like this. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. She became more and more alive, not so much to a system of ideas as to a big diffused impulse toward change, to a great discontent with and criticism of life as it is lived, to a clamorous confusion of ideas for reconstruction—reconstruction of the methods of business, of economic development, of the rules of property, of the status of children, of the clothing and feeding and teaching of every one; she developed a quite exaggerated consciousness of a multitude of people going about the swarming spaces of London with their minds full, their talk and gestures full, their very clothing charged with the suggestion of the urgency of this pervasive project of alteration. She struggled against it quite uselessly. She felt she had to go on. His perseverance was amply rewarded. He might be unfortunate, but he would scarcely be a fool. Wood struck me a blow which made me a robber. "Yes; I know I look it," said O'Higgins, amiably.
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