Her aunt did not object to capital punishment or war, or the industrial system or casual wards, or flogging of criminals or the Congo Free State, because none of these things really got hold of her imagination; but she did object, she did not like, she could not bear to think of people not having and enjoying their meals. Let us be gone. It seemed intolerable that she should go home and admit herself beaten. It was not human and yet very human, a high pitched wail of hunger that rattled her skull. “Let me see,” she said to herself, trying to control a slight sinking of the heart, “I am going to take a room in a lodging-house because that is cheaper. Do I blow off the head of a man with whom I am in love?’ ‘That,’ said Gerald, disengaging his hand and at last drawing her into his arms, ‘deserves a reward. " "Lord bless us! you alarm me.
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