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. He was a Wiltshire Edmondshaw, a very old family. He had meant to come at his business in a roundabout way, but for that little slip. “You have changed somehow—and you certainly are less friendly. . His hair is oddly streaked with gray —I might say a dishonourable gray. Perhaps her odd beauty—and that too was natural—stirred these thoughts into being. But in this posture he fared worse than ever. Ann Veronica, after a last survey of the dinner appointments, followed him, rustling, came to his side by the high brass fender, and touched two or three ornaments on the mantel above the cheerful fireplace.
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