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Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. " "He won't be taking that. He resented being regarded as irregular. “It is very doubtful,” he said. It was the end, she told herself, fiercely. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool. V. She would not forgive me. But her husband, whose deportment to her was considerably changed since the fatal knot had been tied, paid no attention whatever to her grief. I want to boast myself. And yet that could not be: it was a confession only in the event of his death. The Idle Apprentice II. Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years. "Do you dare to insinuate that Mrs.
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