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There was something fatalistic about the letter H. “Has he accused any one yet?” “Not yet,” he answered. ” She looked down on him thoughtfully, and he let his admiration of her free young poise show in his face. The place was pockmarked with window-like holes everywhere—people were always 138 falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these lookouts why she had chosen it. Miss Garvice assumed a quality of neutrality, professed herself almost won over by Ann Veronica’s example, and the Scotchman decided that if women had a distinctive sphere it was, at any rate, an enlarging sphere, and no one who believed in the doctrine of evolution could logically deny the vote to women “ultimately,” however much they might be disposed to doubt the advisability of its immediate concession. He did not care whether the stories were accepted or not. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school.
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