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Take me to the Stone Room. But oh, how weary I am! I know. “John, we should be getting out of here. ) You are all the slender goddesses. But I tell you in return, I shall take no pains to hide myself. Paris looms behind—a tragedy of strange recollections—here she emerges Phœnix-like, subtly developed, a flawless woman, beautiful, self-reliant, witty, a woman with the strange gift of making all others beside her seem plain or vulgar. 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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