We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. Whence had she come: whither was she bound? A temporary congestion in the street held up the caravan for a spell; and Ah Cum looked backward to note if any of the party had become separated. Moored to the steps, several wherries were dancing in the rushing current, as if impatient of restraint. “After all, how easy the descent is, even for the greatest of us. "He has not the power—perhaps not the will to do so.
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