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Gay. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. " "Whom do you mean?" demanded Jackson. I’ve had it, Sheila. "A good idea!" exclaimed the carpenter. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. Far away there was the one woman for this boy of mine—some human being who would understand the dear fool better than all the rest of the world. I'm about to leave this country for ever. She hung for a moment, and then went on, conclusively, “Until we have the vote that is how things WILL be.
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