Ramage. “I should like to speak to you for a few minutes,” he said to Anna, dropping his voice a little. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. “Well, lodgings and things! And I paid my fees at the College. It was now whitening, hissing, and seething like an enormous cauldron. She had asked about that already, and her father had replied, evasively: “We’ll have to see about that, little Vee; we’ll have to see about that. At any rate he made it very clear that night that there was an ineradicable discord in life, a jarring something that must shatter all her dreams of a way of living for women that would enable them to be free and spacious and friendly with men, and that was the passionate predisposition of men to believe that the love of women can be earned and won and controlled and compelled.
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