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. S. I’ve to collect my sword and hat, and then we must get back to London. “Idiots!” she said, when she heard this pandemonium, and with particular reference to this young lady with the throaty contralto next door. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy.
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