It was, Ann Veronica felt, as a sip or so of that remarkable blend warmed her blood, just the sort of thing that her aunt would not approve, to be lunching thus, tete-a-tete with a man; and yet at the same time it was a perfectly innocent as well as agreeable proceeding. ’ She raised the pistol. “But if you weren’t keen on the suffrage business, why on earth did you go to prison?” Ann Veronica reflected. Any natural fineness would be numbed by drink. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. Courtlaw is looking after you, Miss Pellissier,” she said.
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