“The Vote is the symbol of everything,” said Miss Brett. He suddenly became eloquent and plausible. It is that, is it not?” “No,” he answered readily. Almost light-heartedly. She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. “YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly. That’s the difficulty. Why didn’t I die? Why does God hate me so? Why does He not want me? I didn’t die because I’m weak, because I am cursed! I hate this poisoned world! But most of all. ” She answered. In the evening, a band of village musicians, accompanied by most of the young inhabitants of Willesden, strolled out to Dollis Hill, where they formed a rustic concert under the great elm before the door. " "I see," remarked Kneebone.
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