But one of these days everything will click back into place. If you want me, you know where to find me. ” She rolled over on her face, and stuffed her fingers in her ears to shut out the rhythm from her mind. “I opened my eyes, and she was bending over my bedside. Here she seems to have developed into a brilliant woman with more character and steadfastness than I should ever have given her credit for. We met dissecting dogfish. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. Afterward she wanted to get her letter to her father back in order to read it over again, and, if it tallied with her general impression of it, re-write it.
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