‘I knew it. And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict. Together they crept through the erstwhile drawing room and entered the massive flagged hall. He smiled. "With pleasure, Sir," replied Edgeworth Bess. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. Jack paused for a moment, and found that his own adventures formed the subject of the ballad. "Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate.
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