I was compelled to run away. They did not want her. I don’t think women need to trouble about political questions. In an instant, she turned on him. “Quite an unimportant one,” he assured her. And the woollen-draper departed. There was only one clean spot in the picture—the ship's wash (all white) that fluttered on a line stretched between the two masts. They were properly brought up, and sat still and straight, and took the luck fate brought them as gentlewomen should. She found she could do her microscope work all the better for being in love.
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