Lucy kissed him on the cheek. But come, sir. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. “But if you weren’t keen on the suffrage business, why on earth did you go to prison?” Ann Veronica reflected. “Not a bit of it. It’s John. And how could I come home—when he locks me in rooms and all that?” “I do wish this wasn’t going on,” said Miss Stanley, after a pause.
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