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. From a bi-secting street came shouting and music. “I MUST speak to you,” he said. Shy, grateful in her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. Having made a hole in the wall sufficiently large to pass through, Jack first tossed the bar into the room and then crept after it.
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