"What's that to you?" demanded Jonathan, gruffly. He reached for her and she stroked his head soothingly as his mother had done a few times when he had suffered bad fevers. He hesitated for a moment and then he followed her. ‘That’s a loud one. You’ll have to go back to Remenham House. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. “There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed.
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