The night was clear and moonlit, dazzling with even light blue shadows that shone into manicured lawns and pristine gardens. On that night,—that fatal night,—Winifred crushed all the hopes that were rising in my heart. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. " "I think I remember reading something about your father in the papers," observed Wood. Yet I shall think of you to-day. His bodily suffering, however, was nothing compared with his mental anguish.
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