The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. Perhaps that was the reason that they both remained standing. "Where did you learn the song I heard just now?" he demanded, in an authoritative tone.
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