"Yes—what do you mean, Ma'am?" added Jack, staggering after her. The crown has passed from the brow of one monarch to that of another. “Of course it is okay!” Cathy’s voice rose in volume and in pitch. They set about everyone—everyone. Sheila’s boys hadn’t been much help when they were around the house, anyway, they were more partial to lolling around on couches and running around with their girls. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. In the obscurity in which it was now seen, it looked like a prison, and, indeed, it was Jonathan's fancy to make it resemble one as much as possible.
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