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. "Be silent," said Jonathan, striding deliberately into the room; "these cries will avail you nothing. And one must—some of it must slip through one’s fingers. The doorbell tinkled and Michelle grabbed her purse and rushed down the creaky wooden stairs. For many of them it will smirch us forever. Thanksgiving Day morning, Shari woke Lucy a half an hour before the sounding of the alarm. “Now she’s all hat and ideas,” he said, with an air of humor. His eyes never left her face.
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