’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning. 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. Let her see if she could manage this one, perhaps turn all to suit herself? ‘What do you think to do with me now?’ The captain lowered the pistol. Most of the horses were dead, all but three stallions and two mares left among what was once a thriving stable. Both Ruth and McClintock came down to the launch to wish him God-speed and good luck. It numbered nine, and four of these were women students.
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