She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. The youth with the hair brushed back and the spectacled Scotchman joined in the fray for and against the women’s vote. "Won't you be persuaded, Joan?" he added, making a similar offer to Mrs. She tossed her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door. “How unkind!” she exclaimed. There is some deep treachery hidden beneath his words. .
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