Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. 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 afraid I don't understand. She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience.
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