’ ‘You wouldn’t,’ agreed Mrs Sindlesham. 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. That is what I don't understand. Perhaps that was the reason that they both remained standing. The air was pungent and leaden. She confronted him with his own double-standard. ‘Would you like me to enquire for your mystery lady, Gerald? I know the Comte and Comtesse de St Erme quite well. Look at me. The buboes broke and God took Lucia's mother. Sebastian traveled at seventy, eighty, then one-hundred down the freeway. From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly. ’ The breathy laugh came, and Madame Valade abandoned her fan.
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