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. " "What for?" demanded the turnkey. They agreed to lend her their hold-all and a large, formless bag which they called the communal trunk. "Yale!" Spurlock's gaze shifted to the dead hills beyond the window; when it returned to the Chinaman there was astonishment instead of interest: as if Ah Cum had been a phantom a moment since and was now actually a human being. She tolerated spitballs in her curly hair and had to buy a new backpack when hers was stolen.
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