It's my way when I'm ruffled. It was a pity people had to eat food. My politics in that matter wouldn’t be to give women votes. "What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively. He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. His quiet, kindly smile implied his serene disbelief in any confessible thing. Nothing could occupy her attention long today, unless it concerned her situation.
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