Then she would have quiet times, in which she would say to herself, “Now look here! Let me think it all out!” For the first time, it seemed to her, she faced the facts of a woman’s position in the world—the meagre realities of such freedom as it permitted her, the almost unavoidable obligation to some individual man under which she must labor for even a foothold in the world. When next he asked for her, some twelve hours later, he was told that Mademoiselle had left. Every one of those four stories would be accepted. Senior year started with a whimper. Wasn't the river beautiful under the moonlight?" "We did not leave our cabins.
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