She marvelled at his apparent imperviousness to the heat. I hated the stuff. ’ ‘But where? Where has he gone? Always he goes off, and he says no word to anyone. "Where is he?" he cried. Then she would have quiet times, in which she would say to herself, “Now look here! Let me think it all out!” For the first time, it seemed to her, she faced the facts of a woman’s position in the world—the meagre realities of such freedom as it permitted her, the almost unavoidable obligation to some individual man under which she must labor for even a foothold in the world. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. "You won't refuse it, Mr. ” She replied informally.
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