Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. ” Her reverie broke, and she found herself still in front of the looking glass, a barrette hanging loosely from her hair. It was always jabbing him with white-hot barbs, waking or sleeping. " "I shouldn't call her queer. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters.
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