The odds were astounding and yet he had it bad. Every one turned to her in astonishment. It occurred to Ann Veronica once that she had known him when he was younger, but day had followed day, and each had largely obliterated the impression of its predecessor. We’ll have some buttered toast. I shall still believe in you. He reached for her and she stroked his head soothingly as his mother had done a few times when he had suffered bad fevers. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. And they had an idea of what men were like behind all their nicety. 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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