She wanted to kiss his feet. ’ ‘Why must you?’ asked Gerald calmly. . ’ With pretty imperiousness, she gestured to the bed beside her. She took a few of his things before she scanned the area. Grace, confidence, the power of movement even, seemed gone from her. An old man and a young girl, the one as stubbornly offensive as the other. Me, you may have. He sounds to me like a soldier of fortune. “Look here,” he said, protruding his eyes; “why get anything to do at all just yet? Why, if you must be free, why not do the sensible thing? Make yourself worth a decent freedom. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another.
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