On her lapel was an ivory button, bearing the words “Votes for Women. Yet the thing hidden within her called and called. It was her figure, her style of dress, her manner of arranging the hair. Mr. ” A man who had been sitting with his hat tilted over his eyes at an adjacent table had risen to his feet and stood suddenly before them. Almost light-heartedly. She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance. 1 with active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project Gutenberg-tm License.
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