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He sent me home. Here was the place behind the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy’s persecutions, and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland. The asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees. She became at times an embodiment for Ann Veronica of all that made the suffrage movement defective and unsatisfying. I’m not a bit afraid of anything—scandal, difficulty, struggle. ‘But I find you excessively rude, Gérard.
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