If he had nothing to tell her, she had nothing to ask. It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. Lucy could feel blood welling underneath a bump half swelling and already half-healing on her scalp. Women to me are something so serene, so fine, so feminine, and politics are so dusty, so sordid, so wearisome and quarrelsome. I'll call for you this afternoon when Wu is on.
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