Mother and Son XI. Might we ask you if you have ever seen him, if you knew him at all before this evening?” She stood up suddenly, and turning her back to them, looked steadily out of the window. Going involved two things that all Ann Veronica’s tact had been ineffectual to conceal from her aunt and father. It was not possible for him to have been deceived. Contrasted with the confused movement and presences of a Fabian meeting, or the inexplicable enthusiasm behind the suffrage demand, with the speeches that were partly egotistical displays, partly artful manoeuvres, and partly incoherent cries for unsoundly formulated ends, compared with the comings and goings of audiences and supporters that were like the eddy-driven drift of paper in the street, this long, quiet, methodical chamber shone like a star seen through clouds. He uttered a deep groan, but said nothing. “Not a bit of it,” he said; “it’s only a score in a game.
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