We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. “It—it—must come,” she faltered. John laughed even harder, his eyes misting over. “If I were to marry now,” she said, “it would be with a sense of humiliation. "It's a fine idea, my child, but you mustn't do it. By the intense look of him, she guessed that she had just encountered for the first time the boy genius Martin Chen.
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