McClintock laughed as he gave the letter to Ruth. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. Quite!” He sat in the arm-chair and took tea, and consumed several of the extra cakes which she had sent out for and talked to her and expressed himself, looking very earnestly at her with his deep-set eyes, and carefully avoiding any crumbs on his mustache the while. After all, what can it matter? It was just to make sure.
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