Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. ” “I met you accidentally,” he reminded her. Yes; she had heard the music the night before. ’ The woman shrugged helpless shoulders, looking to her husband. ” His voice rose and fell amidst the music and the singing of Tristan and King Mark, like a voice heard in a badly connected telephone. Her mind turned and accused itself of having been cold and hard.
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