"Your father—poor imbecile!—believes we ran away together. She stared at him. Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. Even the stars were strangers. She hung for a moment, and then went on, conclusively, “Until we have the vote that is how things WILL be. David Courtlaw. For her mother to betray her seemed inevitable, but the betrayal seemed worse than her fate. I myself have had the pleasure of dining with her.
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