So it is that I do not do these things. Almost worthy of your own fertile imagination. ” He stroked her hand gently. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. He was in a curious state of desperation. 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. Better get a dress. . It was the grand nursery of vice. They happen to a man. . "I can," replied Trenchard.
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