Gerald looked at it, then at her face. She looked about, watching a massive green storm cloud building in the west. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. My politics in that matter wouldn’t be to give women votes. Her aunt was a long time before she answered. The noose was at its throat when I called for help.
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