She pursued her interest in the Socialist movement and in the Suffragist agitation in the company of Miss Miniver. Her aunt had summoned up an altogether too vivid picture of her father as the masterful man, overbearing, emphatic, sentimental, noisy, aimless. “I think,” he said, “I was a little too mystical about beauty the other day. Night and day have been alike to me. Darting quickly to the chest that contained the priest’s vestments, she leapt onto it and reached her arm down to scrabble behind it on the floor.
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