Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. " Sir Rowland made no reply, but angrily quickened his pace. He then made off. Wood, you shan't lord it over me, I can promise you. But a time will come (and that before long,) when our sex will assert its superiority; and, when we have got the upper hand, let 'em try to subdue us if they can. She had tasted freedom now, and so far she had not felt the need of protection. In no way could he be said to contribute to the gaiety of the little party. "Jump!" cried Ben, in a voice of thunder. " "What?" he barked.
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