And I’m afraid. . It may not be just, it may not be fair, but things are so. “I want a vote for myself,” she said. A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being. I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. She thought of all sorts of odd and desperate expedients, and with passionate petulance rejected them all. Turning, she heaved at the bottom door and slammed it in his face just as he came leaping forward to grab her.
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