" "You hear, my son," said the widow eagerly. Usually it was fish sticks and reheated noodles. Diane spooned warm apple-rhubarb pie onto the girl’s plates, topping each with scoops of ice cream. 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. It wasn’t. ‘Whereas Melusine insists she is entirely English,’ agreed Gerald.
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