She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. Crocodile Tears. “You are not boring me,” she said, “but I would rather talk of something else. With such qualifications as she possessed, two chief channels of employment lay open, and neither attracted her, neither seemed really to offer a conclusive escape from that subjection to mankind against which, in the person of her father, she was rebelling.
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