“But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. Jackson’s. “In Paris our lives were far apart, and we had seldom the same friends. "How?" cried her brother, starting. And that would spoil it. But a man’s opposition always inclined her to the suffrage side; she had a curious feeling of loyalty in seeing the more aggressive women through. ‘But if there is one, how in the world did this mystery lady of yours know of it?’ ‘That, Lucy, is precisely the point that has been exercising my mind,’ Gerald said, turning his eyes once more to the group of French exiles in the alcove.
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