“I want a vote for myself,” she said. With a finger crooked in his side-pocket, she measured her step with his, her senses still dizzy from the echo of the magic sounds. “Marriage and mothering,” said Ann Veronica, with her mind crystallizing out again as the lark dropped to the nest in the turf. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess.
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