“Did I do something wrong?” He asked. 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. “Why should one pretend? “Think of all the beauty in the world that is covered up and overlaid. It'll be turning over to-morrow.
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