"His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. And for twelve years he has been so; until his long security, well-nigh obliterating remembrance of the deed, has bred almost a sense of innocence within his breast. Kneebone. My politics in that matter wouldn’t be to give women votes. " "You will call for it before six months are passed," rejoined Jack, sternly.
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