I next proceeded to Jenny Bunch's, the Ship, in Trig Lane—there I got the same answer. Pause. “Election be hanged!” he exclaimed. He stood up and she ushered him out of the small room. They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. She was fatigued physically and mentally, and neither mind nor body could rest. You take them. She forced herself not to think of John. Her mind went on generalizing.
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