It was an impulse. ‘I must see the lady who is my great-aunt. Besides, you've secrets which must not be disclosed. Then a surge of rage welled up. Much to her annoyance, therefore, Winifred was left alone with the woollendraper, who following up a maxim of his own, "that nothing was gained by too much bashfulness," determined to profit by the opportunity. “Through there,” he said, and pointed with the pamphlet he was carrying. You have misunderstood. To-morrow they will know the truth. She tried not to blush. When he was done she kissed his cheek tenderly. 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.
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