Then blackness. There was no answer. I tell you what, Mr. The youth with the hair brushed back and the spectacled Scotchman joined in the fray for and against the women’s vote. " "Vot o' that?" chuckled Abraham. His face was downcast. But when she was thinking it over in her room that evening vague and baffling doubts came drifting across this conviction. First the passage to be negotiated. She returned to these latter, and at the back of her mind, as she looked them over again, was a very distinct resolve to quote them after the manner of Miss Garvice at the very first opportunity. "No prize shall indushe me to enter dat horrid plashe again.
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