John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be. "My little fancy man's quite as fond of me as of you, Bess. I—In fact, I dislike him extremely. She became eager to explain herself, to show herself in the right light. Books! Aren't they wonderful?" The blind alley of life stretching out before her, with its secret doorways and hidden menaces; and she was unconcerned. I offered myself as a clerk, as a milliner, as a shop girl.
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