She gathered stones to place upon the makeshift grave. She had to wait some minutes in an outer office, wherein three young men of spirited costume and appearance regarded her with ill-concealed curiosity and admiration. They confronted each other, barely feet apart, neither apparently any longer aware of anyone else in the room. A deep roar followed this order, and several missiles were launched at the vehicle, which was driven off at a furious pace. On her lapel was an ivory button, bearing the words “Votes for Women. Going involved two things that all Ann Veronica’s tact had been ineffectual to conceal from her aunt and father. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. “John?” He turned around in the recliner.
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