‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. 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. On his appearance, Jack levelled a pistol at his head. If you’ve got anything to say, you must say it to your aunt—” “But look here, daddy!” He flapped the Times at her with an imperious gesture. He reeled, and crashed to the floor. One can't help being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object. “Not a bit of it,” he said; “it’s only a score in a game. He waved to her. ” 189 “Are you feeling okay?” She could feel a parade of ants dotting her skin.
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