The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. “I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips. It seemed to show a want of affection, to be a deliberate and unmerited disregard, to justify the reprisal of being hurt.
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