Jack, however, had an expedient for mastering this difficulty. 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. At last, after a long rumbling journey in a stuffy windowless van, she reached Canongate Prison—for Holloway had its quota already. Entering the Lodge, the first person he beheld was Austin, who was only just up, and whose toilette appeared scarcely completed. “You love some one else?” he repeated.
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