She got up early, and walked about the garden in the dewy June sunshine and revived her childhood. " "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me. 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. But to live at peace with your neighbour…. In a convent, you understand, one is like a servant, even if one is a lady. Her bonnet dropped off and was trampled into the gutter.
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