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This laugh and his looks alarmed her. Jack now carefully closed the shutters, while Blueskin struck a light, with which he set fire to a candle. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. ‘But you have told them that I have been disguised, no? That I have broken into Remenham House, and—’ ‘No, no, child, don’t be alarmed,’ said her great-aunt, her tone soothing. “Why not?” He repeated, demanding. But an individual she never laid eyes on day before yesterday! And the minute he gets up, he'll head for the public bar. She was still more stirred by the idea of the equal citizenship of men and women, by the realization that a big and growing organization of women were giving form and a generalized expression to just that personal pride, that aspiration for personal freedom and respect which had brought her to London; but when she heard Miss Miniver discoursing on the next step in the suffrage campaign, or read of women badgering Cabinet Ministers, padlocked to railings, or getting up in a public meeting to pipe out a demand for votes and be carried out kicking and screaming, her soul revolted. There had been disappointments and humiliations, and although she hated to admit it even to herself, she was in desperate straits. Miss Stanley hesitated, and took first one and then another of the constituents of this costume off its peg and surveyed it.

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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 03-07-2024 03:37:17

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