” She shook her head. He was a Wiltshire Edmondshaw, a very old family. I burned it. She had heard of women journalists, women writers, and so forth; but she was not even admitted to the presence of the editors she demanded to see, and by no means sure that if she had been she could have done any work they might have given her. He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. Spurlock began to watch for Ruth's coming in the morning; first, with negligent interest, then with positive eagerness.
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