Wood, was much better furnished with eatables than might have been expected, and boasted a loaf, a knuckle of ham, a meat-pie, and a flask of wine. ‘You do not know how I am like my mother. ” “It is within yours—if anybody’s,” he answered. ‘But what will happen to Lucia? Are we to kill her?’ ‘Of course not. He contrasted the lot of women in general with the lot of men, presented men as patient, self-immolating martyrs, and women as the pampered favorites of Nature.
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