He swung it open and then used his body to pin her against her seat. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. Wood could stand it no longer. There was a time, long, long ago, when the tears would have rushed to my eyes unbidden at the bare mention of generosity like yours, Mr. All the best novels have been written by women, and yet see how men sneer at the lady novelist still! There’s only one way to get on for a woman, and that is to please men. But since you assure me you didn't write the letters, and Mr. It did seem germane to the matter that so many of the people “in the van” were plain people, or faded people, or tired-looking people.
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