“Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. She had learned this art in skirts, and knew well how not to be disadvantaged. The agony on the sands now ceased to puzzle her. ” She finished her breakfast and strolled out across the garden with the letters still in her hand. Jolly hard life for a girl, getting a living.
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