There is the election——” He laughed derisively. It was Blueskin. "You know my motive well enough," answered Jonathan. One or the other. She hung for a moment, and then went on, conclusively, “Until we have the vote that is how things WILL be. And yet, on the very site of the sordid tenements and squalid courts we have mentioned, where the felon openly made his dwelling, and the fraudulent debtor laughed the object of his knavery to scorn—on this spot, not two centuries ago, stood the princely residence of Charles Brandon, the chivalrous Duke of Suffolk, whose stout heart was a well of honour, and whose memory breathes of loyalty and valour. Let us be gone. It is what I have wanted, what I have meant all along.
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