’ She spoke with difficulty, holding down the rising emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. Could she go through with it? She must. " "Poor Jack!" exclaimed Thames. He told her something about music, the great world outside. She resolved to go into the City to Ramage and ask for his advice. What had urged her to wrench loose and fly was the guarding instinct of the good woman. “Where am I?” he muttered. People of your sort—I don’t want the instincts to—to rush our situation. She treaded down the hall swiftly but stopped abruptly when she heard a voice in back of her. Papa has sent me to be religieuse. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat.
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