“Mr. It ought never to have begun. I believe that I have heard my sister speak of you. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. No breakfast, he’s had no dinner, hardly a mouthful of soup— since yesterday at tea. ‘Believe it or not, I do it for pleasure. One day I can be a Gothic chick, and the next day I’ll be Hitler Youth.
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