” “Poor you!” said Ann Veronica. ’ Then I kicked him until he was black and blue. I will do all this not because I love you, but—because you are Anna’s sister. It's mighty lonesome down there for a man bred to cities. “A claim,” he continued, “which I am quite prepared to recognize. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels.
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