He stood up, apparently intending to put an arm about her, but she stepped back from him quickly. "These writer chaps are queer birds. I am always reinventing myself with new styles. ” “No,” cried Miss Miniver, almost vehemently. I did not even know where to write and thank you. All make the same answer—'d—n you, keep it. I love everything to-day, and all of you, but I love this, this—this innocence upon us most of all. Contrasted with the confused movement and presences of a Fabian meeting, or the inexplicable enthusiasm behind the suffrage demand, with the speeches that were partly egotistical displays, partly artful manoeuvres, and partly incoherent cries for unsoundly formulated ends, compared with the comings and goings of audiences and supporters that were like the eddy-driven drift of paper in the street, this long, quiet, methodical chamber shone like a star seen through clouds. "It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone.
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