Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. 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. ‘Now let’s have it. ’ Gerald frowned. “You will have some tea?” she asked. At least, I hope so for his sake as well as my own," he added, mentally.
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