‘What has that to say to anything?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ smiled Lucy nervously. She gathered up the chain, revealing a locket which had lain hidden in her bosom. "Why not?" "I'll tell you," cried a deep voice from the back of the bed. Some day, when the rewards of literature permit the arduous research required, the Campaign of the Women will find its Carlyle, and the particulars of that marvellous series of exploits by which Miss Brett and her colleagues nagged the whole Western world into the discussion of women’s position become the material for the most delightful and amazing descriptions. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. She was only trying to distract you so that she might escape. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. ” “I think I am. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste.
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