Man or woman. What would happen when next morning she returned to Morningside Park? He couldn’t turn her out of doors. “Perhaps,” he queried, “you wish to avoid being seen about with any one—er— connected with the profession, under present circumstances. But when she reached the pavement outside her teeth were clenched, and she carried herself unconsciously an inch or so higher. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper.
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