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She raided their settlements in shifts, staggering her kills from tribe to tribe, undiscriminating of their petty politics. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. She gazed steadily out of the window at that arc of glittering lights. Martha had the square look of solid English citizenry, which was not deceiving. She had flung away from her father’s support with the finest assumption of personal independence. He would refuse to listen and absolve her unshriven. " "Ay, ay," cried the jailers, laughing. He was like a man beside himself.

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