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“You remind me of a little blue stone I had once. She could feel her face turning beet red. “To the view that all those Splendid Women in the movement ought to have votes. I did not know what God had in mind then. ’ ‘Who’s bleeding to death?’ demanded Trodger. She frowned and gripped her hands about her knees very tightly. At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. .
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