‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. . “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. ‘I can’t tell you the times I’ve wished for a gun to point at Hilary’s head. Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber up the slippery sides of the well. ’ ‘That is what you think? Let us try!’ ‘Don’t be idiotic!’ She was backing from him, reaching through one of the slits she had carefully manufactured in her petticoat. "I cannot part with him," replied the widow, bursting into tears; "indeed, indeed, I cannot.
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