At first she could not tell what it was; but as her eyes became accustomed to the light, she recognized the old coat. She pushed at the closer of the two soldiers bearing the precious burden. It was now a quarter past twelve. He forced her arm back, away, stretching it out to keep the weapon at bay. “I wonder,” he said, “if women do know things by instinct? I have my doubts about feminine instinct. " "At all events, let me send her away, my dear," supplicated the carpenter, anxious to avert the impending storm. “The Vote is the symbol of everything,” said Miss Brett. She hated being angry, the uselessness of it all, the frustration. ‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment.
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