Martin came to the door, looking radiant and relieved. ” Hill staggered to his feet and drew a folded paper from his pocket. “My word holds,” she said. 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. All right! I’m off. The policemen were closing in from the sides to intervene. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene.
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