‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. “Am I hurting you?” She asked. 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. Gerald did not know who she was, but he knew who she was not. Mrs. The Palazzo was unlike anything she had ever known.
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