“A ballot-box, you know,” he said, “is very largely just a box. “I refuse. ” “Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?” “Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. But what I want to get at is this. “No, I am alone,” she answered. She reloaded. I saw him yesterday, and he told me he shouldn't stir from home for a week to come.
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