“And to-night we are friends?” “We are friends,” said Ann Veronica, and drew her hand quickly away from him. A girl of fifteen or sixteen gave her a handbill that she regarded as a tract until she saw “Votes for Women” at the top. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. I told her I was sick today and she told me to get over myself.
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