Her mouth dry, she made her feet walk on, not daring to utter a word. Mrs. Melusine sighed with relief at being alone at last and free to resume her search among the portraits. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. O God! O God!" And he appeared convulsed with agony. "Well, without immediate care he would have passed out.
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