" "Well, this young lady I was about to describe," said the doctor, "is Enschede's daughter. That was the only sound he heard. ‘Um—begging your pardon, sir, but—um—what was you meaning to arrest the young lady for?’ ‘Trespassing, theft, and suspicion of spying,’ announced Roding fluently. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. ‘Who is to be angry with you now?’ ‘Miss Prudence, that’s who,’ stated Joan bluntly. "Oh, Heavens!" cried Mrs. ‘Not at all ladylike. Unless—’ Something clicked in his mind and he stared at his friend without seeing him. You’ve got me. On the walls were noticeboards bearing clusters of newspaper slips, three or four big posters of monster meetings, one of which Ann Veronica had attended with Miss Miniver, and a series of announcements in purple copying-ink, and in one corner was a pile of banners. "The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment.
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