We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses. ” From that she opened out into a long, confused emphatic discourse on the position of women, full of wonderful statements, while Constance worked at her stencilling and Ann Veronica and Hetty listened, and Teddy contributed sympathetic noises and consumed cheap cigarettes. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion.
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