She changed into a halter top and a pair of tight jeans herself, and let Lucy brush her long, glossy hair as they talked about mascara, schoolwork, and boys. Home!— which I never hoped to see again. The door to the room in question was closed. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. You have been to me like a mother, not only a wetnurse. “Of course I’m manager for this expedition,” he said, after an interval of self-examination.
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