I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. Even then she had understood vaguely that she had touched upon some philosophy of life: that one was never lonely when alone, only in the midst of crowds. Her heart ached; and that puzzled her. The young man opposite was straining his ears to listen to their conversation. Here one might live the life of golden days. She had adored the stupid thing, and kept it in her pocket for about ten years. Wood. Miss Garvice assumed a quality of neutrality, professed herself almost won over by Ann Veronica’s example, and the Scotchman decided that if women had a distinctive sphere it was, at any rate, an enlarging sphere, and no one who believed in the doctrine of evolution could logically deny the vote to women “ultimately,” however much they might be disposed to doubt the advisability of its immediate concession. There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort. "I don't know," she answered vaguely. "Then it's all over with us.
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