I have come to you for sympathy, perhaps for help. Jonathan laughed scornfully. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. A little exclamation of surprise escaped Ennison. A certain irritation crept into his manner as he did so. You know that I am practically destitute, without means or any certain knowledge of where my next meal is coming from. Lost me place, that’s all. ” “We’ve come past it, miss,” the man answered, with a note of finality in his gruff voice.
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