’ ‘Don’t be too sure,’ said Miss Froxfield darkly, with a mischievous glance at her betrothed. Women and men had always flocked to him, covetous of his knowledge, his riches, and if all else failed, his carnal expertise. “Lucy. I hoped for a family like the Becks and I waded through the system until I got them, so maybe life isn’t so damn hopeless after all. But I'll not believe it of you. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered.
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