The Reformer
The hall of Westminster was full of voices, and Abigail Hart could hear them all—the clatter of boots on marble, the rustle of silk skirts, the low murmur of men who believed themselves the masters of the world. She stood at the edge of the gathering, her notebook pressed against her chest, and felt the peculiar sensation of being both inside and outside the room at once. It was April 1920, and...
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