Anna lied to you, I lied to you. 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 liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. When she slipped off of it her head started to bob, filled with air. ’ The dagger was in her hand.
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