” Lucy rubbed Michelle on the shoulder. She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. She was wholly unable to conceal her knowledge of his presence. Clotilde’s stunning green eyes were reflected in the gazes of the tender young children, but their faces had been hollow and sunken, their hair matted, and their clothing in bad need of repair. So I am already no longer the girl you knew at Morningside Park.
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