Have you anything to tell me before you go?” Annabel laughed lightly. I should know you—in Heaven or Hell. I'd like to shake you until your bones rattled; but the bones of a Roundhead wouldn't rattle to any purpose. "Strange!" he continued, as if talking to himself. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. She wanted to go to Cornell University to study Anthropology, that was her 183 dream. "Is my house to be made a receptacle for all your natural children, Sir? Answer me that. " "I wish you did have some faults, Ruth. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels.
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