Ann Veronica glanced at the mirror to discover a flushed and dishevelled disorder. “It’s a matter of feeling with me. We were talking about the suffrage—and I rather scoffed. We mustn’t make it so. But, when I look upon his innocent face, and see how like he is to his father,—when I think of that father's shameful ending, and recollect how free from guilt he once was,—at such times, Mr. No, this was imbecile.
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