” “Couldn’t I make a treaty?” Ann Veronica thought, and could not see any possible treaty that would leave it open for her to have quasi-surreptitious dinners with Ramage or go on walking round the London squares discussing Socialism with Miss Miniver toward the small hours. Wood had retired to his own room, where he had just summoned Thames. A fortnight passed, then a month. Girls screamed in chorus. ’ ‘Pah!’ ‘Precisely. “A ballot-box, you know,” he said, “is very largely just a box. It’s a beautiful plant, but a tender one. That is not reasonable.
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