The thing rankled in her mind night and day. “I was already aware of the fact. For ten years I've been trying to go home, but my conscience will not permit me, I hate the Orient. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. ‘I can answer that. ’ The lady uttered a scornful sound. The original passage, Martha had told her, had led only from an upstairs room to one downstairs.
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