It has been only the sort of nonsense which passes lightly enough between half the men and women in London. You can, too, if you wish. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. Her clock had stopped—stopped at the very hour on which she had quitted the Mint! She had not the heart to wind it up again. “Do you like my dress?” “Yes, the dress is beautiful, but you are much more beautiful than any dress. I'll have no such toast drunk at my table!" "It's the king's birthday," urged the woollen draper.
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