I don’t suppose you could tell me even the derivation of suffrage if I asked you. “My God!” he said again. ” “Why?” Mr. ” “You have seen her—since last night?” “Yes. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. Were such a thing to happen again, I'd never let Mr.
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