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He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. Capes and her father stood up, and her father made a belated movement toward the curtain. Ann Veronica had no answer for a moment. . “About my sister,” she repeated slowly. ” Horace, the manservant, transformed now into the semblance of a correctly garbed waiter, threw open the door. She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively. McClintock did not exaggerate his ability to read faces.
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