" O'Higgins threw out his chest, gave it a pat, and smiled. The youth with his hair like Russell cleared his throat and said rather irrelevantly that he knew a man who knew Thomas Bayard Simmons, who had rioted in the Strangers’ Gallery, and then Capes, finding them all distinctly pro-Ann Veronica, if not profeminist, ventured to be perverse, and started a vein of speculation upon the Scotchman’s idea—that there were still hopes of women evolving into something higher. “We will do Paris like the tourists, and thank God here comes dinner. I never hunt the human tiger without being armed. As she drew off her skirt she felt something in the pocket, and remembered the letter which the commissionaire at the Carlton had given her.
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