" Prudence shrugged. You were with your mother, the two of you huddled like thieves, laughing at the silly women who tried to shield themselves from rain by cowering under empty baskets and shawls. "Close the court, Mr. I want to make myself visible to you. Charcoal. ” “You didn’t. He stepped in with a heavy foreboding of calamity. Your life, and that of your child, are in my power. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing.
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