Every house-top, every window, every wall, every projection, had its occupants. The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. He looked at her, hurt. One called her very distinctly “My dear!” Two secretarial posts did indeed seem to offer themselves in which, at least, there was no specific exclusion of womanhood; one was under a Radical Member of Parliament, and the other under a Harley Street doctor, and both men declined her proffered services with the utmost civility and admiration and terror.
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