“What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. Rowland's plans were quickly formed, and as quickly executed.
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