Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. The Matriarchate! The Lords of Creation just ran about and did what they were told. And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict. "What will you do?" asked Thames. ’ ‘No, of course you could not,’ Gerald soothed. Mr.
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