But ere the words could find utterance, her maternal tenderness overcame her indignation; and, sinking upon her knees, she extended her arms over her child. 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 shook her fist ceilingward. It seemed as if all the precautions previously taken were here accumulated. She touched bow to strings, playing a fifth.
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