A moment more and he would have been crushed beneath the ponderous board, when a slight but strong arm arrested its descent. He seemed to be trying to understand something very perplexing and elusive. And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek. "She wouldn't let me go. " "Whom do you mean?" demanded Jackson. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man.
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