I——” The door was thrown open. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. ’ You mean you hope you do, thought Gerald cynically. “Hola Marteen!” She exclaimed cheerfully. Sara Darnell was a sprightly, svelte twenty-five year old who was known for serving detentions at meter maid frequency, if only to be taken marginally more seriously by the predominantly male Lincoln High Science Department. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. She had better escape if she can. Indeed, I've heard him say that, but for his wife, he would shelter her under his own roof. ” “Climbing?” “Yes. She looked around her. Her stifled misery had betrayed her. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman.
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