F. She could not run, her limbs were frozen. She has an excellent remedy for a sprain. She was very pale, and there was a look of fear in her eyes. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag.
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