Without Sheila, the denizens of the neighborhood might forget they had the ability to communicate with each other. Parbleu, but she was a fool. Some of the lunatics were rattling their chains; some shrieking; some singing; some beating with frantic violence against the doors. There was a bare chance that he had been mistaken. 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.
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