” “John, do you remember me at all?” “Lucy?!” He cried in disbelief. Women never throw themselves into each other's arms; they calculate the distance and the damage perfectly. Why? While the front of his mind was busy warning her not to fall into the hopeless miseries of underpaid teaching, and explaining his idea that for women of initiative, quite as much as for men, the world of business had by far the best chances, the back chambers of his brain were busy with the problem of that “Why?” His first idea as a man of the world was to explain her unrest by a lover, some secret or forbidden or impossible lover. "I feel guilty, going away and leaving that ignorant child; but our days have been so planned that we dare not change the schedule. ” “You forget,” she said, looking up at him with a faint smile, “that under the cloak of her name I am earning more money a week than I could ever have earned in a year by my own labours. If we do not begin—” She had come to a resolution.
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