Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. Annabel laughed a little uneasily. “Freedom! Citizenship! And the way to that—the way to everything—is the Vote. And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed. . ” She came closer.
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