‘Then he went stark staring crazy, if you ask me. “It was a bad day for me,” he said, speaking slowly and painfully. Is that it? I thought this very pretty. “You shall,” she said. The asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees. “I’ll be hanged if I do. Have you ever voted, Mr. Wood. We have known men who have come here for no other purpose than to prove their unassailable virtue, who have strode into the arena of temptation, waving the—the what is it—the white flower of a blameless life, only to exchange it with marvellous facility for the violets of the Parisienne.
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