She hoped that he would at long last remember his young male pride. " Half an hour later she laid aside the book. ‘But what is it that amuses you, Jacques?’ Kimble’s grin spread wider. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. One day they were at tea in the laboratory and a discussion sprang up about the question of women’s suffrage. She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train.
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