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And the woollen-draper departed. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. I wonder. Amid this varied throng,—varied in appearance, but alike in character,—one object alone, we have said, rivetted Mrs. " "Oh God!" exclaimed Jack, paralysed by her cries. ’ Ignoring this, the major slipped his hands about her waist and lifted her to her feet.
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