I don’t want you to be sad. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. The next moment his grasp relaxed, and he sank to rise no more. Have you been away from Morningside Park?” “I’m not interrupting you?” “You are. “I have learned that.
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