” She spoke like a mistress addressing school-children. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. “But if you weren’t keen on the suffrage business, why on earth did you go to prison?” Ann Veronica reflected. "And the rings?" "Ja. ‘Do not mix yourself in mine, and perhaps you will not die.
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