It’s one of their worst traits, one of their very worst. “Before I took up the Suffrage,” a firm, flat voice remarked, “I could scarcely walk up-stairs without palpitations. “But Julian, we don’t even know each other!” She exclaimed. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter. “Don’t they look like a pair of young lovers sleeping off a tryst?” He observed. Which were perfectly true, as Gerald was aware.
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