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" "Then I owe my life to her?" "Positively. He stood by her side, and he suffered her hands to rest in his. In stature, he was short and stumpy; in person, corpulent; and in countenance, sleek, snub-nosed, and demure. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs.
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