Melusine grasped the hilt of the sword she had been carefully holding, and came out into the light. "By George!" he exclaimed. Contrasted with the confused movement and presences of a Fabian meeting, or the inexplicable enthusiasm behind the suffrage demand, with the speeches that were partly egotistical displays, partly artful manoeuvres, and partly incoherent cries for unsoundly formulated ends, compared with the comings and goings of audiences and supporters that were like the eddy-driven drift of paper in the street, this long, quiet, methodical chamber shone like a star seen through clouds. Her mind jumped with questions as fear raced through her and hardened into a bid for retaliation.
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