She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. “Women are mocked,” she said. " Almost the identical words of the boy. There had been disappointments and humiliations, and although she hated to admit it even to herself, she was in desperate straits. " "Anything like that?" "Yes; but the colour is lavender. Just by walking in you can tell if it is a good house or a bad house. She walked through the office to the door, aimlessly.
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