If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. "But, where's the strange gentleman I saw under the table?" "Under the table!" echoed Blueskin, winking at Jack. ” Tears flowed down her face. 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.
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