A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes. The youth with his hair like Russell cleared his throat and said rather irrelevantly that he knew a man who knew Thomas Bayard Simmons, who had rioted in the Strangers’ Gallery, and then Capes, finding them all distinctly pro-Ann Veronica, if not profeminist, ventured to be perverse, and started a vein of speculation upon the Scotchman’s idea—that there were still hopes of women evolving into something higher. The kind of man who isn’t content with his science, and writes articles in the monthly reviews. Earles said, with a resigned sigh, “but I shall rely upon you to stick to me so long as I do the right thing by you.
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