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And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict. ” She found her muscles a-tremble. “He is addressing a meeting of his constituents somewhere,” Annabel answered. It was a beautiful place that she had found, a round cave by a small stream. He had been the one to dress her in the finest silks and brocades, and here she was, displayed for the world to see in 248 drugstore makeup and the uniform of an old schoolteacher. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. I'll lay my life he's gone. Is this man Hill dead?” She shook her head.
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