‘I’ve finished me report, sir,’ Trodger said aggrievedly. ’ It is the Press who find her out. She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. ’ For a moment he looked daunted.
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