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She touched bow to strings, playing a fifth. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. A long chest under one of the windows was open, some of its contents dragged out and spilling onto the floor. ‘Well said, my dear. Several of the assailants carried links, so that the room was a blaze of light. . You—It’s jolly of you to confide in me. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. ‘First I must see Jacques, and—’ ‘No need for that,’ intervened Roding, grasping her arm and trying to drag her to the door. She had not noticed such beauty in many years, and it almost caused her to weep. .
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