“But if you weren’t keen on the suffrage business, why on earth did you go to prison?” Ann Veronica reflected. And if he won’t—” But she did not give even unspoken words to the alternative at that time. Her pat answer to all inquiries was, “I let my sister Shari make me over,” while she kept from staring at her own reflection in the shiny shoes past her bare knees. "Don't ask me about it now. It was rigged up for the occasion as it has been many a time before. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. Accordingly, on their presentation, Mr. ” Pause. She stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice, and lost the thread of what she was saying.
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