With Jack so badly injured, how would she get him home? How get herself home, now that Trodger had arrested her. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. On the one hand, she seemed to think plainly and simply, and would talk serenely and freely about topics that most women have been trained either to avoid or conceal; and on the other she was unconscious, or else she had an air of being unconscious—that was the riddle—to all sorts of personal applications that almost any girl or woman, one might have thought, would have made. And, if I'd my own way with the Secretary of State, he never should.
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