" She pursed her lips and uttered a whistle, piercingly shrill and high; and instantly she became the object of intense astonishment on the part of the other diners. Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. You will be my witness, Madame Joan. “What can I do?” “Go and see her. Lucy felt her eyes misting up, turning traitor. “The Vote is the symbol of everything,” said Miss Brett.
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