The horror of those few minutes was still with her. I must have something in hand. She tried not to blush. The tired woman looked up in inquiring silence at Ann Veronica’s diffident entry. . There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. But he did not find the sword of monsieur le major, for this sergeant would have recognised it and told me that I am arrested again.
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