“Good God!” he exclaimed. She put out her hands to avoid his embrace. That is not reasonable. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. “Ass!” he went on, still warming. . ’ He added, as alarm spread over the lad’s face, ‘Don’t concern yourself. ” He made quite a long pause, and went on, with a sigh: “You have a voting paper given you—” They emerged into the publicity of the lawn.
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