Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done. She would be healthy, too, and vigorous. She put her hand in his to be squeezed. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. I'm going to be frank; we must have a clear understanding. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another.
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