He succeeded so well that they were almost in Montague Street before Anna stopped short. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. She held out her hand frankly. ” She looked at him with curious eyes. “There is no remedy, girls,” she began, breathlessly, “except the Vote. Nothing stronger than water has passed my lips for years.
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