"All's bowman, my covey. Women to me are something so serene, so fine, so feminine, and politics are so dusty, so sordid, so wearisome and quarrelsome. You mustn’t go clawing after a man that doesn’t belong to you—that isn’t even interested in you. You cannot possibly leave me here alone with Gerald. I have no intention of allowing you to depart in a hurry. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. " He did not reply. ’ ‘A pox on the creature,’ swore Mrs Sindlesham, clenching and unclenching her stiff fingers. No, never mind about thanking me. ” “Please get off at the next exit. "Well, you never can tell," he continued, lamely. He came as an agreeable diversion from an insoluble perplexity.
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