" "Is this true, Sir?" cried Mrs. I hope I haven't given any unintentional offence?" said the widow, again meekly appealing to Wood. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. But a time will come (and that before long,) when our sex will assert its superiority; and, when we have got the upper hand, let 'em try to subdue us if they can. Taber? There is a possibility.
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