Thank goodness you’ll understand. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. The benches running round the room, though fastened to the walls by iron clamps, had been forcibly wrenched off; while the table, which was similarly secured to the boards, was upset, and its contents—bottles, jugs, glasses, and bowls were broken and scattered about in all directions. That is what I don't understand.
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