“Girls of sixteen do not need their own laundry hampers. Then her eyes flashed. ” “Would you let me go on studying for a time?” “If you order patience. He's down in Patagonia somewhere. I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword. She entered quietly and padded up to her shared bedroom. She would be surrendering to all her impulses—particularly the good impulses—many of which society had condemned long since because they entailed too much trouble. He leaned forward to embrace her.
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