Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. “I wish I could make every woman, every girl, see this as clearly as I see it—just what the Vote means to us. Humph. They found a cosy little table in the tea-rooms, and everything was delicious. There was little more here than a sideboard, a chest for the vestments, and a simple wooden chair.
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