A girl of fifteen or sixteen gave her a handbill that she regarded as a tract until she saw “Votes for Women” at the top. “It was poison—why not?” she answered. She grew perhaps a shade paler, and she glanced out into the street, where her four-wheeler cab, laden with luggage, was still waiting. Telling the porter that he would attend to the house himself, he bade him go in search of Jack Sheppard. Retract your words instantly, or take the consequences. She looked steadfastly out. “Ah!” said Ramage, impressively. . The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. "Well, well; I have given out of my wisdom.
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