At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw smiled across his table at her. “She can’t go now. Jests are not for seasons like this. "I have one inquiry more to make of you, Sir," said the stranger, as soon as he had conquered his displeasure, "and I will then trouble you no further. Every girl in the world practically, except a few of us who teach or type-write, and then we’re underpaid and sweated—it’s dreadful to think how we are sweated!” She had lost her generalization, whatever it was. You disgust me. Very well. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer the way I did—and do. ’ ‘I have no game. A young man, who had been spending the last hour walking up and down on the opposite side of the way, came quickly over to her. That was an admission all right. She was practicing with them on that very day, and displaced a rather mediocre boy violinist who claimed “to be better at the viola anyway” as first chair.
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