The thought made her exquisitely happy. You ought to know that. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. "I was only commenting. My politics in that matter wouldn’t be to give women votes. That boy—blind as a bat! Why, he hadn't seen the Woman until to-night! From the first chord of the Grieg concerto to the finale of the Chopin ballade, Ruth had sat tensely on the edge of her chair.
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