CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. ’ ‘I could have done so at the first and saved you the pain,’ she told him merrily. I consented to become Mrs. She always left the table when they began to smoke. To-night we leave for Marseilles. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. He seemed years younger, and the arrangement of his tie and hair were almost rakish. "By the avenger of his family's dishonour—by your brother," he replied, coolly. I don't know how to explain it," said Spurlock, "but music hits women queerly.
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