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This morning he heard voices—McClintock's and the Wastrel's. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. Not a job he may care about; but he's a good sport. . Do you know, Annabel, that you are my wife. "To me?" gasped Winifred. “Election be hanged!” he exclaimed. “I hope that it has not done any harm. Tell me, Sir," she added, with forced calmness, and grasping Wood's arm; "what has Jack done? Tell me in a word, that I may know the worst. Giles Bowl I.
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