Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. ‘But this is altogether a chance of the luckiest. But it is my fault. Baffled in their attempt, the mob uttered a roar, such as only a thousand angry voices can utter, and discharged a volley of missiles at the soldiery. They travelled past the few idle sightseers who had braved the uninviting evening to see what the Suffragettes might be doing; they pulled up unchallenged within thirty yards of those coveted portals. ‘But for how long?’ Lady Bicknacre asked apprehensively. ‘Except Captain Roding,’ agreed the old lady, nodding at the butler.
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