“You cannot seriously believe,” he said, “that at the present moment I care a snap of the fingers whether I have any dinner or not. She stood among them, watching them and feeling curiously alien to them. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www. Her mother did not seem to like the new doctor at all, shunning him with a near superstitious dread. The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. Stanley. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad. What sort of a standard of life yours may be I do not know, yet in your heart you know very well that every word you have spoken to me has been a veiled insult, every time you have come into my presence has been an outrage.
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