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Why don’t you make sure before you rush out like that upon a stranger?” “You were with my wife,” Hill repeated sullenly. I know nothing about this affair, but some one has been burning documents. I want you to be my wife. Figg?" asked Gay. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe.
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