" "Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able to credit his senses. “You see, it comes after all,” she continued, “from certain original convictions which have become my religion. Last night there had been no time. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. You simply can't get good oil down there, so I must husband the few drams I carry.
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