"Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. Keeping to the shadow of the house, he crept forward until he could see better without, he hoped, being seen. But it’s love you should’ve had when you were tiny and I didn’t give it to you. “I wish I could make every woman, every girl, see this as clearly as I see it—just what the Vote means to us. ’ ‘Indeed?’ said Gerald, surprised. Then they rode off at speed. Only old librarians and Shirley Temples say that. Well, it's scarcely credible.
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