It was precisely two o'clock on the morning of Whit-monday, the 25th of May 1724, when the remarkable escape before detailed was completed: and, though it wanted full two hours to daybreak, the glimmer of a waning moon prevented it from being totally dark. She flushed with desire and happiness, her husband had returned to her and all would be aright. “It may be more difficult than you think,” she said. “I believe,” he said, “that you mean me to be Prime Minister. We have both tried hard to develop it—you and I —and we have failed. Sometimes she missed her cue and nodded affirmatively when the gesture should have been the reverse; and Prudence would send her a sharp glance of disapproval. Well, one must hope, that was all. " "Her ladyship will pass through it?" "Of course; there's no other way.
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