“But if you weren’t keen on the suffrage business, why on earth did you go to prison?” Ann Veronica reflected. “Our interest lies in heading them off. So this is why I was chosen, because of the babies. “I saw—they knocked off your fetters yesterday. ‘Sir?’ enquired the lad. Uttering a faint scream, she sank backwards, and would have fallen, if it had not been for the interposition of Blueskin, who, at that moment, staggered into the room with a candle in one hand, and the bottle in the other. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men.
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