Surely she could ignore him. She exhorted Ann Veronica not to become one of “those unsexed intellectuals, neither man nor woman. Day after day she pounded him with curses, saying that her mother looked down on him from Heaven and sent a curse, to which he laughed. "Here, wife—hostess—fetch me that bottle from the second shelf in the corner cupboard. You don’t have to have a lot of money to have your own style. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. Then the inner door opened abruptly. “I shan’t eat him. As far as I can, I belong to them all.
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