“Tell her,” said Mr. ‘They hold their nose up, so. "Where?" she cried. “I wish you and I had drunk that love potion,” he said. At times he seemed to be claiming pity from her; at times he was threatening her with her check and exposure; at times he was boasting of his inflexible will, and how, in the end, he always got what he wanted. ‘Oh, peste,’ she cried out in distressed tones. I'll think no more about her. I have counted you, and always hoped to count you, the best of my friends. Something namelessly abhorrent in the eyes of those men…! She knew what arms were for—to fold and embrace and to hold one tightly; but why men wished to kiss women was still a profound mystery. Amid this varied throng,—varied in appearance, but alike in character,—one object alone, we have said, rivetted Mrs. He had tossed an honoured name into the mire; he required no prison bars to accentuate this misery.
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