She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly. It was a dark mysterious place, and what it was used for no one exactly knew; but it was called by those who had seen it the Well Hole. Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate. He thought, too, of the fretful invalid who lay in the next room to his, whose money had created his business and made his position in the world. My politics in that matter wouldn’t be to give women votes. He's a nice boy, a good student.
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