I knew it was in vain to cry 'murder!' in the Mint, so I had recourse to stratagem. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. Its shouting now did in some occult manner convey a protest that Mr. It was a clear, lovely, October morning. “Dear friend,” she said, “do not magnify me into a physiological problem. ‘What are the chances, do you think, of that thing being already cocked?’ ‘Probably not even loaded,’ suggested Hilary hopefully.
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