“Lady Ferringhall, sir. You are all that I am or hope to be—the celestial atom God put into me at the beginning. ” She scoffed. “Want to see the upstairs?” “Sure. ” “I am convinced of it,” she answered. “This is much the cheapest place I know of where things are moderately clean, and I should hate rooms all by myself. . And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict. \"Cool.
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