A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. "Hush!—come hither, and I'll tell you. One day they were at tea in the laboratory and a discussion sprang up about the question of women’s suffrage. She was shocked.
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