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She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience. She hoped that he would at long last remember his young male pride. How came you by the hurt, eh?" "How did I come by it?—that's a nate question. "What can it matter to you whether he returns or not, child," rejoined Mrs. I want a walk. I made a wrong choice, it seems—but my voice remains.
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