"Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water. "If I spoke to him, my interest might be misinterpreted. He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits.
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