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"Oh! they are—are they?" muttered Jack, triumphantly; "that'll do. Her family are solid West End people, Kensington people. At no loss to comprehend that Jack was the individual pointed out by these outcries, two of the nearest of the group made a dash at him. He wore a French military undress of the period, with high jack-boots, and a laced hat; and, though his attire indicated no particular rank, he had completely the air of a person of distinction. Contrasted with the confused movement and presences of a Fabian meeting, or the inexplicable enthusiasm behind the suffrage demand, with the speeches that were partly egotistical displays, partly artful manoeuvres, and partly incoherent cries for unsoundly formulated ends, compared with the comings and goings of audiences and supporters that were like the eddy-driven drift of paper in the street, this long, quiet, methodical chamber shone like a star seen through clouds. Ann Veronica tried to seem absolutely unconcerned. As she neared the bottom of the dip in Piccadilly she saw a woman approaching her from the opposite direction—a tall woman who at the first glance seemed altogether beautiful and fine. Still, his conscience was partly satisfied. "We shall see. ‘Did you see the man?’ Gerald asked. .
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