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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"A Woman-Hater"


"I had cried at being insulted by scholars in the Press; but what was it
to me that the scum of the medical profession, which is the scum of God's
whole creation, called me words I did not know the meaning of, and flung
the dirt of their streets, and the filth of their souls, after me? I was
frightened a little, that is all. But that these reptiles could wound my
darling old lion's heart across the ocean! Sir, he was a man who could be
keen and even severe with men, but every virtuous woman was a sacred
thing to him. Had he seen one, though a stranger, insulted as we were, he
would have died in her defense. He was a true American. And to think the
dregs of mankind could wound him for his daughter, and so near the end of
his own dear life. Oh!" She turned her head away.
"My poor girl!" said Vizard, and his own voice was broken.
When he said that, she gave him her hand, and seemed to cling to his a
little; but she turned her head away from him and cried, and even
trembled a little.
But she very soon recovered herself, and said she would try to end her
story. It had been long enough.
"Sir, my father had often obeyed me; but now I knew I must obey him.


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