She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth. She turned them down and gently placed the violin back in its red fake fur lined chamber. The youth with the hair brushed back and the spectacled Scotchman joined in the fray for and against the women’s vote. It had been a very long time. She would be surrendering to all her impulses—particularly the good impulses—many of which society had condemned long since because they entailed too much trouble. ‘I begin to ask myself why it is that I wish to become of these people. “It is nothing of any importance.
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