The movement was then in its earlier militant phases, and one of the women only, Miss Garvice, opposed it, though Ann Veronica was disposed to be lukewarm. And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. “John, don’t!” she cried. ‘Suzanne, if I may say, had also not the choice. His eyes were bright with the hunt. Put out your hand and bid me God-speed. The telegram reminded Ann Veronica that she had no place for interviews except her bed-sitting-room, and she sought her landlady and negotiated hastily for the use of the ground floor parlor, which very fortunately was vacant.
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