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. Mr. Melusine tapped on it. A long chest under one of the windows was open, some of its contents dragged out and spilling onto the floor. He was in a curious state of desperation.
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