She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. ‘You ought to be glad someone cares enough about your wretched little neck to try and save it. She observed the tides, amazed by how high the water could rise, almost touching the tops of the cliffs. I was in hopes you'd be content with my hat and wig. The assassination, as you call it, was, obviously, the vengeance of a kinsman of the injured lady, who no doubt was of good family, upon her seducer.
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