She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. I never even burrowed down into the trunk. I wasn't taught that; I simply fell into it from contact. 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 would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. When I told her that there were no available nurses this side of Hong-Kong, she offered her services at once, and broke her journey.
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This video was uploaded to zbrushcore.club on 17-09-2024 08:09:39
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