Analysis would come later, when the primitive conscience, satisfied, would cease to dominate his thought and action. Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar. “Election be hanged!” he exclaimed. Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard. “One hardly knows—all the time. He was caressing an idea. She veiled her emotion by taking off his overcoat. She hugged Lucy, who had finished eating. Squire and master. I felt his heart.
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