Confound this slavery of sex! I am a man! I will get this under if I am killed in doing it!” She scowled into the cold blacknesses about her. In fine, to marry Ruth (if she would consent) as a punishment for what he had done! To whip his soul so long as he lived, but to let his body go free! To provide for her, to work and dream for her, to be tender and thoughtful and loyal, to shelter and guard her, to become accountable to God for her future. And as a natural consequence, they don’t do so well, and they don’t get on—and so the world doesn’t pay them. All the same, I wish I had that fellow by the throat! Just the virile, unregenerate man in me wishes that. “My first love was all blundering,” said Capes. CHAPTER XXII. You have made for yourself a unique place upon the stage.
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