She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. She kicked him in the shin, trying to knock him off his feet. " "Would he had done so!" cried Jack. I've seen him often do it. They are their mother’s sons.
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