“And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain. The temperature soared to one hundred degrees, sickeningly hot. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. You’re just a particular being with nothing else in the world to class with you.
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