A man came out, and walking recklessly, almost cannoned into Ennison. Manning. But she was not there. “What on earth did you expect me to do, then?” he asked. I didn't think. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. A girl of fifteen or sixteen gave her a handbill that she regarded as a tract until she saw “Votes for Women” at the top. Wear one on the stage on the following day.
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