“Soon enough, John. . “I know,” she said quietly, “that Paris, where she has been so much admired, is not a good place for her. “Your coffee’s too good to refuse. Only a few, but enough for me to understand that some act had driven you to this part of the world, where the hunted hide. She fell into a pleasant dream of positions and work. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. “What was that?” she asked sharply. On her lapel was an ivory button, bearing the words “Votes for Women.
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