’ She raised the pistol. Jack dropped the knife, and walked sullenly aside. Side by side with the cheese (its never-failing accompaniment, in all seasons, at the carpenter's board) came a tankard of swig, and a toast. She tried to think what she should do in this eventuality or that. “Lucy Albert, sir. And then amusement crept into Alderley’s chest and he let his pistol hand fall. Squire and master. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. 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.
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