“Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. He was halfway across the ballroom, where the dancing had ceased for the musicians to take a well-earned rest, when Roding pounced on him. At any rate, it would be good to hear him saying the sort of things he did—perhaps now she would grasp them better—with this world-shaking secret brandishing itself about inside her head within a yard of him. \"I’ve never been to any of Lincoln’s dances.
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