But your role would have been to go about saying, ‘I beg your pardon’ in a reproving tone to things you understood quite well in your heart and saw no harm in. The crowner's 'quest sat on her yesterday—and if she hadn't been proved out of her mind, she would have been buried at four lane-ends. In one grave, mind. I got myself locked up to cool off. “I have a letter for you, and no end of messages. But I will go. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult.
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