The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases. “There is no remedy, girls,” she began, breathlessly, “except the Vote. S. Kneebone's," remarked Austin, rising to fasten the door. She leaned over and kissed his cheek innocently. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. Sc. She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. The bed was hard beyond any experience of hers, the bed-clothes coarse and insufficient, the cell at once cold and stuffy.
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