"It's not an offer," continued he, "that I'm likely to make, or you're likely to receive every day in the year. ” Horace, the manservant, transformed now into the semblance of a correctly garbed waiter, threw open the door. ‘Because she, naturally enough, does not consider that it is in any way my affair. “I believe,” he said, “that you mean me to be Prime Minister.
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