There was a Greyhound bus that she was overdue to ride. CHAPTER XXVI. Suddenly she became aware of the fact that he had brought no lunch. And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. “But if you weren’t keen on the suffrage business, why on earth did you go to prison?” Ann Veronica reflected. ‘I do not know how you think you may help me,’ she said slowly.
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