I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. We are not animals. I am sorry that I do not know any one in London. “I wish I could make every woman, every girl, see this as clearly as I see it—just what the Vote means to us.
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