“And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain. Still, that leaves over a million shrines short, not reckoning widows who re-marry. . She would flee to the wild fastnesses, the places where there were no overarching systems of any use, where she could blend with the unstable populace and kill in relative peace. “And so you have been thinking?” her father began, quoting her letter and looking over his slanting glasses at her.
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