Manning, relinquishing his cup without answering her question, “when I hear you talk of earning a living, it’s as if I heard of an archangel going on the Stock Exchange—or Christ selling doves. He leaned forward to embrace her. . She winced when first she heard the preparation-room door open and Capes came down the laboratory; but when at last he reached her she was self-possessed. He had sold half a dozen short tales to thirdrate magazines; but this letter had been issued from a distinguished editorial room, of international reputation. She decided to leave after Prom.
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