" "My writing! no such thing!" ejaculated the lady, casting a look of alarm at the woollen-draper. She twisted her fingers tightly. It was painful to want him so much. "How do I know you are a friend?" asked Darrell. "Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely. “Freedom! Citizenship! And the way to that—the way to everything—is the Vote. " "How so?" inquired Winifred. “There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed. Her words, as she said them, seemed to her to mean nothing, and there was so much that struggled for expression. E. Their conversation was conducted in the flash language, and, though unintelligible to Wood, was easily comprehended by this companion, who learnt, to her dismay, that the wounded man had received his hurt from her son, whose courage and dexterity formed the present subject of their discourse.
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