With her lived a Mrs. At least that, I think, is what makes a clever woman’s independent career so much more difficult than a clever man’s. But all those empty years!… My heart was hot. “I cannot conceive,” he said, “how any other occupation could ever have occurred to you. Brendon and Courtlaw who had been watching for her, met her at the door. “Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest. He worked afternoons, when everybody else went to sleep; he worked at night under a heat-giving light, with insects buzzing and dropping about, with a blue haze of tobacco smoke that tried to get out and could not.
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