I've destroyed my only chance. The man who sat behind a pigeon-hole, and regulated the comings and goings, was for a moment absent. Her aunt leaped unhappily to the thought of penitence. If ever she felt fatigue in these long tramps which had already taken her half over London, she never admitted it. Ann Veronica snatched at the opportunity, and spent most of the intervening time in the Assyrian Court of the British Museum, reading and thinking over a little book upon the feminist movement the tired woman had made her buy.
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