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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. Then Mr. There were perches inside where she could crouch and labyrinths underneath where she could hide. For what indeed does she do? A simple song, no gesture, no acting, nothing. ‘But it is not on the horse at all, Jacques. Mr. Are you going to write a novel?” “Not I,” she answered gaily. It was not simply that all the rooms were rearranged and everybody dressed in unusual fashions, and all the routines of life abolished and put away: people’s tempers and emotions also seemed strangely disturbed and shifted about. She seemed to be endowed with superhuman strength. . You will go out at once, if you please. When they were home, the pair headed for the Big Apple or the warmth of the Beck’s family table. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now.
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