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She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. I have tried not to tell you—tried to be simply your friend. It is so difficult. Peste, where was her handkerchief? She remembered then that it had been lost in the struggle with Gerald. She could not help but swoon a little. This time he couldn't get far. I am a thing to be used. " "But, man, this chap hasn't fallen soft. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. I sang to him, and he was satisfied. Gregory B.
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