She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. “And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend. Her father was an astute businessman and a hard worker, but also handsome in the face which had aided partly his ascension to the Guild. Strike the gag, Blueskin. Without her, it was lonely.
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