“What? She replied, still hazy. The thought did not occur to her, for all thought had flown out of her head. ‘At me,’ she uttered, holding her own pistol high and aiming it steadily. "An American. “Why?” “I still love you. After all, she only LOOKED a woman. Mauled about!” She fell to rubbing her insulted lips savagely with the back of her hand. She found herself in a phase of violent reaction against the suffrage movement, a phase greatly promoted by one of those unreasonable objections people of Ann Veronica’s temperament take at times—to the girl in the next cell to her own.
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