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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 may as well think. ’ Then she ran swiftly out of the library, calling out as her cavalier was almost at the front door. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. Instinctively she had fallen into the posture of the poster, her hands behind her, her head bent slightly forward, her chin uplifted, her eyes bright with the drollery of the song.
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