She returned home to the Beck house soaked and soggy. She was curious to know why he had boarded a dingy train instead of hailing a cab or his own private chauffeur like the others in expensive suits were doing. “I am very glad that you have come here. Melusine felt the calloused hand grasp around hers. 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. Every one took him for the millionaire, and he had lost his head about me. Her skin prickled. One cannot trust any man at all.
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