Anna stood on the step and looked up and down the street for a hansom. I've taught him all he can do; and there isn't his fellow, and never will be again. And it's a maxim of universal application: or, at least, of universal practice. She had mentioned the address where she and her sister had lived. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters.
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