Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done. ‘You wish to die?’ ‘Not in the least. Who invented them? Nobody knows. The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. "Oh God! how fearfully my father is avenged!" "True," replied Jack, sternly; "but we have our uncle to avenge. Her situation was perplexing her very much, and the Widgett atmosphere was lax and sympathetic, and provocative of discussion. My politics in that matter wouldn’t be to give women votes. “And even then—” The conversation hung for a thoughtful moment.
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