He put his arms around her in a circular embrace. Then she passed from the room on the arm of General Lord Charvill, chatting animatedly to him. In the artificial light her skin had the tint and lustre of a yellow pearl. The bolder members in the House left their places to go lobbyward, grinning. In nearly every speech she heard was the same implication of great and necessary changes in the world—changes to be won by effort and sacrifice indeed, but surely to be won. But it was of no avail. At present the world waits for that writer, and the confused record of the newspapers remains the only resource of the curious. He smiled complacently. You cannot arrest yourself. Her mind developed into savage wrath at the present conditions of a woman’s life.
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