” “Why? What did Missy ever do to piss her off? What did I do?” Lucy asked, growing defensive. On her lapel was an ivory button, bearing the words “Votes for Women. Essentially the talk was a mixture of fragments of sentences heard, of passages read, or arguments indicated rather than stated, and all of it was served in a sauce of strange enthusiasm, thin yet intense. Sheppard's door, they were always sufficiently on the alert to maintain their privileges, and to assist each other against the attacks of their common enemy— the sheriff's officer. Is there any truth, do you suppose, in this rumoured marriage?” “I know nothing,” Courtlaw answered hurriedly. All this Woman-who-Diddery —no damn good.
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