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She had heard of women journalists, women writers, and so forth; but she was not even admitted to the presence of the editors she demanded to see, and by no means sure that if she had been she could have done any work they might have given her. She was gone. Wood heard the cry. Unobserved, she knelt and kissed the threshold: for she knew what kisses were now. Why hadn't he gone on with the girl's story? What instinct had stuffed it back into his throat? Why the inexplicable impulse to hurry this rather pathetic derelict on his way? CHAPTER XV Previous to his illness, Spurlock's mind had been tortured by an appalling worry, so that now, in the process of convalescence, it might be compared to a pool which had been violently stirred: there were indications of subsidence, but there were still strange forms swirling on the surface—whims and fancies which in normal times would never have risen above sub-consciousness. The showers of Second Period Physical Education class became another front on the battleground. But she was not sure just how to reach it. Almost the last female to bear the name, too,’ muttered the old lady. ” “You remembered. But the cases were not identical. But in that case, why the raging jealousy about Madame having taken her place.
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