And, in spite of the boy's resistance, he plunged his hands into his pockets, and drew forth the miniature. Then they rode off at speed. I know the Dutch. Her cheeks flushed a dull red. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. She went next day to the schools, and her world seemed all made of happiness just worked up roughly into shapes and occasions and duties. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another.
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