With such qualifications as she possessed, two chief channels of employment lay open, and neither attracted her, neither seemed really to offer a conclusive escape from that subjection to mankind against which, in the person of her father, she was rebelling. She calmed herself, breathing deeply. "He's about to cross the river. ” He pulled up at the Beck’s doorstep at 1:48. ” They were lingering over their dessert. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. I say, I'll take the yarn over and read it to McClintock.
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