’ ‘Perfectly correct, my boy. At last in a street near the Hampstead Road she hit upon a room that had an exceptional quality of space and order, and a tall woman with a kindly face to show it. “Election be hanged!” he exclaimed. The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. The stain upon our family is only half effaced: I have sworn the death of the villain and his bastard, and I will keep my oath.
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