\"Where have you been, young lady?\" Mike crooned, a large grin on his fat Irish face. I do not wish to return to Paris. Had he been listening inside? ‘What is amiss?’ ‘That Frenchie, sir. Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. On her lapel was an ivory button, bearing the words “Votes for Women.
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