V. The Ragged Edge. “How CAN I tell him?” whispered Miss Stanley. Whenever ecstasy— any kind of ecstasy—filled her heart to bursting, these physical expressions eased the pressure. She meditated profoundly through several enormous cold hours on all that had happened and all that she had done since the swirl of the suffrage movement had submerged her personal affairs. Her husband was drinking in the tavern with the other guests.
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