They proved all sorts of things perhaps, but they were thick, unequal, pitiful pieces of work. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. Marvel, who was now quite dissolved in tears, "I shall never survive this scene. Miss Klegg and the youngest girl made a vigorous attack on Miss Garvice, who had said she thought women lost something infinitely precious by mingling in the conflicts of life.
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