She thought gleefully of the dress she would get to wear for the Ball (Prom?) and could not wait to tell her foster family about how excited she was. \" \"Would you like me to carry some of the books? I have nothing to bring home today. And the grotesquest fact was that she did not so much loathe, as experience with a quite critical condemnation this strange sensation of being kissed. She might scream until her voice failed; the natives would not come to her aid; they never meddled with the affairs of the whites. She drew in a deep breath of the sweet mountain air. And we men would work for them and serve them in loyal fealty. ‘That’s not much comfort. Beyond the steps was a pole-chair in readiness. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. ’ ‘I thought so,’ Gerald said with satisfaction. But I am not worthy to be any man's wife —far less his wife. ” “It is an accident,” he answered. He entered the driver’s side, not inserting the keys in the ignition. Her mother had died when she was thirteen, her two much older sisters had married off—one submissively, one insubordinately; her two brothers had gone out into the world well ahead of her, and so she had made what she could of her father.
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