The two lovers sat together, and their sole discourse turned upon Jack and his ill-fated mother. The couple reappeared from behind the curtains, both visibly shaken. “But if you weren’t keen on the suffrage business, why on earth did you go to prison?” Ann Veronica reflected. Or at least he did the day before yesterday. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. “Then let me be the judge of what is best,” she answered. Sheila decided to do a little laundry one day, clothes that were in Lucy’s hamper, a dirty clothes bin that Lucy had insisted that she have for herself separate from the family one.
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