Their faces had bite marks that were hers. She felt that Ann Veronica had duped her in that dream, and now that she had come up to London she might as well speak her mind. A fortnight passed, then a month. I don’t think women need to trouble about political questions. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. “A ballot-box, you know,” he said, “is very largely just a box. The soldiers! They must not find her here.
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