‘The general himself?’ ‘How shall I get my inheritance if the general will believe that pig?’ ‘Do wish you wouldn’t keep on calling him a pig,’ Martha begged. Constantly sick with the croup or diaper rash. Wood; but they never come now. She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. Their colorful displays seemed to repel the dreariness of the sky as each group savored its long awaited moment, its weekend arrival in front of the opposite sex. There was a flash and a loud report.
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