” His rhythm slowed to a grind. It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. Anna sent her away. There's a man dying—Captain Darrell. His mom was a famous model. ’ ‘And do not say you made a mull. ‘Cover her, men. 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 a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap.
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