She came into the room. 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. The material cares of life hang about your neck like a millstone. " "I should have opened that letter in the beginning," said the doctor. 192 Her skirt had ridden almost to her hips. ‘I do not know how you think you may help me,’ she said slowly.
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