Spurlock slept on. What were your findings?” Lucy asked. The Bed Room 400 XIX. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. She was flushed, and her eyes were bright and angry; her breath came sobbing, and her hair was all abroad in wandering strands of black. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard. Miss Garvice assumed a quality of neutrality, professed herself almost won over by Ann Veronica’s example, and the Scotchman decided that if women had a distinctive sphere it was, at any rate, an enlarging sphere, and no one who believed in the doctrine of evolution could logically deny the vote to women “ultimately,” however much they might be disposed to doubt the advisability of its immediate concession.
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