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F. 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. It’s Providence. “John,” she said, “I am afraid that I am going to make you unhappy. It feels like I’ve got a snake of mucus stuffing my entire throat, just one big solid rope. You can go for a walk with Lucy. She seized the key, and he grasped her hand and squeezed it roughly and painfully between the handle and the ward as she tried to turn it.
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