She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. Ann Veronica halted a pace, and Miss Klegg came alongside. Women to me are something so serene, so fine, so feminine, and politics are so dusty, so sordid, so wearisome and quarrelsome. To think of him as loving her would make all that different. And, then, forsooth, she must needs prevent your hanging Jack Sheppard after the robbery in Wych Street, when you might have done so. Her figure was perfect,—tall, graceful, rounded,—and, then, she had deep liquid blue eyes, that rivalled the stars in lustre.
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