“Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. They travelled past the few idle sightseers who had braved the uninviting evening to see what the Suffragettes might be doing; they pulled up unchallenged within thirty yards of those coveted portals. No, none at all. Their momentary absence seemed to have worked wonders; for now the most perfect understanding appeared to subsist between them. So far she had not heard the sound of his voice.
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