She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. "You are my prisoner. It doesn't matter that you deal with black people. You must dispose of the goldsmith's note I gave you yesterday, as soon as you arrive at Rotterdam. To Gerald’s eye, the refugees therefore presented a rather forlorn little group, almost huddling together and chattering in low tones in their own tongue. He had seen the announcement of your marriage in the papers, and he imagined that I simply wanted to remain unknown because of your husband’s puritanism.
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