” He consumed Irish stew for some moments. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. The whole of that relationship persisted in remaining obscure. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. She came to befriend the female mistresses, some who were even so audacious as to bring their children into the house.
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