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She even had books by H. He was mad. ‘She’s wearing a lightskirt’s clothing?’ ‘Nothing obviously so, I assure you. 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. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. She had grabbed! She became less and less attentive to his meditative, self-complacent fragments of talk as she told herself this.

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