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The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. You are alone in the world, you have no one save yourself to consider. McClintock laughed as he gave the letter to Ruth. It might be that the boy had taken one drink too many, or someone had given him knock-out drops. “Come, we must go home and have some luncheon. MANNING,” she had begun. His analytical bent saved him many times, though he was not sensitive to this. CHAPTER XVIII. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. But he told me this much, that no matter how far Mr. Oh, what have you been about now?’ ‘There is no need to be concerned. His eyes never left her face. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. Perhaps my wife has already prepared you for what I wish to say.
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