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The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. Very soon she would be able to forget it. Go to her, I say, and take her in your arms, you poor benighted Ironsides! I can't make you see. 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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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 08-09-2024 12:01:31
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