A tourist caravan of four pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street. Here, indeed, was a type with which he had never until now come into contact—a natural woman. “Election be hanged!” he exclaimed. "I must tell you," she was saying. " O'Higgins threw out his chest, gave it a pat, and smiled. What his head conceived his hand executed. ‘Do not beg his pardon,’ intervened Melusine quickly, coming between them. The girls had such freedom, a wonderful chance afforded to them to go out in the wide world before making babies, it was nothing like the world she had come of age in. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. He hadn't played fair.
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