” Ann Veronica could have wept with vexation. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. She realized that with a pang of disgust and horror. Very soon she would be able to forget it. I jumped then—I was not even shaken. "What's the matter?" he cried. Opening the door, he found it littered with straw, on which he threw himself, and instantly fell asleep. ‘Precisely. She found herself in a phase of violent reaction against the suffrage movement, a phase greatly promoted by one of those unreasonable objections people of Ann Veronica’s temperament take at times—to the girl in the next cell to her own. ’ They moved to the door, while the lady shrugged, and then seated herself, glancing from the window into the street below, and then turning again to watch them in their huddle at the other side of the library.
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