She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. And, besides, she didn’t just immediately want to make her attempt. "You won't betray him. Have you ever voted, Mr. “Great dears!” said Capes, as the vehicle passed out of sight. " "I don't see how this is to be effected, unless you yourself were present at the time," said Wood, glancing suspiciously at the speaker. 265 The madness crept around her like smoke under a door. Mr.
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