Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. She made herself a private declaration of liberty. What she admired in her man was his resolute defense of his opinions. “Violence won’t do it,” said Ann Veronica. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future. I suppose I ought to have been a man. Most of my successes in life have been made with a sort of reckless vigor.
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