She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother. White——” “No more,” Sydney Courtlaw begged, laughingly. Two souls in travail; one inspired by fresh hopes, the other, by fresh despairs. “I’m not coarse—no! But I’ve got no purity of mind—no real purity of mind. " "Well, take a chair," rejoined Kneebone. If he hasn't a job for you, he'll know someone who has. 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. She was pensive and thoughtful.
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