A bowl of roses, just brought by Ann Veronica, adorned the communal dressing-table, and Ann Veronica was particularly trim in preparation for a call she was to make with her aunt later in the afternoon. She let her mind run into dreams of that cloud paradise of an altered world in which the Goopes and Minivers, the Fabians and reforming people believed. On her lapel was an ivory button, bearing the words “Votes for Women. He turned to her and pinned her against the headrest with his kisses. ‘Yes, I thought you’d say that. Brendon. “I suppose, Mr.
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