Clotilde’s stunning green eyes were reflected in the gazes of the tender young children, but their faces had been hollow and sunken, their hair matted, and their clothing in bad need of repair. “Why should women be dependent on men?” she asked; and the question was at once converted into a system of variations upon the theme of “Why are things as they are?”—“Why are human beings viviparous?”—“Why are people hungry thrice a day?”—“Why does one faint at danger?” She stood for a time looking at the dry limbs and still human face of that desiccated unwrapped mummy from the very beginnings of social life. His grip twisted her wrist. "You'll pardon an old woman, Miss Enschede," said Sister Prudence; "but where in this world did you get that dress?" Ruth picked up both sides of the skirt and spread it, looking down. She helped herself to the remainder of the slightly congealed bacon, and reverted to the problem of getting her luggage out of the house. ” “And the second?” “Make love to a single woman. His glances were hard to disguise as he scanned her periodically during class.
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