As Mrs. ’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. Without a single ornament about her neck, or hair, wearing the plainest of black gowns, out of which her shoulders shone gleaming white, she was easily the most noticeable and the most distinguished-looking woman in the room. They went to various central and local Fabian gatherings, and to a number of suffrage meetings. She even thought that perhaps she might come to love him, in spite of that faint indefinable flavor of absurdity that pervaded his courtly bearing. “It’s a matter of feeling with me. Well, this is OUR thing. Smith, may have rather odd ways with them; but—" "They have very odd ways," interrupted Mrs. Ennison seemed to feel already the shadow of tragedy approaching. The cork came out with a loud pop, and Anna could not help wondering how it must sound to the patient little crowd outside. Anna leaned back with half closed eyes. Recovery impossible. Coming from the gloom of the passage, even the corridors seemed sufficiently illuminated for them to see their way. ’ Gerald’s jaw tightened.
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