Mrs. F. ” Ennison took the document, tore it half in two without looking at it, and flung it back in Hill’s face. “With your permission,” he said to Anna, “I shall arrange a bed for him where he is. And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict. “What are you doing here? How dare you come to my rooms!” The man stepped into the middle of the room.
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