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But you must not imagine me wrapped in melancholy. " He stared at the agitated curtain; and slowly his chin sank until it touched his chest. “I wonder if you give me a thought. At the first blow, Mrs. We have to hang about in the interval. He remembered also, all at once, the very first words he had heard her speak: “I was not born to this. . There were the burnt papers still in the grate. Drummond took up a cigarette and lit it. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her.
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