I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother. The young lady in the bureau said she would inquire, and Ann Veronica, while she affected to read the appeal on a hospital collecting-box upon the bureau counter, had a disagreeable sense of being surveyed from behind by a small, whiskered gentleman in a frock-coat, who came out of the inner office and into the hall among a number of equally observant green porters to look at her and her bags. “Freedom! Citizenship! And the way to that—the way to everything—is the Vote. She put down the sketch-books and apparatus she had brought with her, pulled out her stool, and sat down. “We don’t pretend. “Silly!” he remarked after a pause. "And now to dispose of our dead.
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