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. He must be gone to dispose of the body. These things were common knowledge among the bon ton, who were generously welcoming these unfortunate escapees. At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered.
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