Once before—but that had been different. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. Everywhere else—the law, medicine, the Stock Exchange—prejudice bars us. He would raise her up once again, ply her with silks and jewels again, all of the accoutrements of the new generation: the cars, the toys, the restaurants, and the prestige. “Don’t you have a wife? Where are your children?” She asked.
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