She made a few protests, a few excuses for her action in accepting him, a few lame explanations, but he did not heed them or care for them. “I want a vote for myself,” she said. It was exactly as Sebastian had foreseen. Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap.
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