The door opened. I've come all these miles for this young fellow; but I don't cotton to the idea of lallygagging four weeks in this burg. “You must come and see me some afternoon,” she said to him. It had ceased to beat. So while he talked to this girl of work and freedom, his slightly protuberant eyes were noting the gracious balance of her limbs and body across the gate, the fine lines of her chin and neck. She throws a sort of spell over us all. “I suppose a girl MUST be underpaid and sweated,” said Ann Veronica. But d—n him! let's talk o' something more agreeable. All that he had sown that afternoon with such infinite care was as nothing compared to this seed, cast without forethought. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another.
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