“A ballot-box, you know,” he said, “is very largely just a box. Sorry I’m a bit late the first evening. Our quarrel's quite over. The moment she entered the room and he rose, she felt that she was immediately consigned to the circle of strangers; and it emptied her heart of its joy and filled it with diffidence. Over an old crazy bedstead was thrown a squalid, patchwork counterpane; and upon the counterpane lay a black hood and scarf, a pair of bodice of the cumbrous form in vogue at the beginning of the last century, and some other articles of female attire. The man looked hard at him. “It’s because I mean to send it back altogether,” she said. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War.
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