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. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. He and his friends (he had at least two per class, even in Trigonometry) would make their exits as quickly as possible. “I don’t see why not,” he answered.
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