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—Providence, I mean—HAS arranged it so that men will keep you, more or less. “Tiffany’s?” He looked at her comically. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. “Yes I did. Throughout the afternoon, while the doctor was giving her the first lesson out of his profound knowledge of life, her interest would break away continually, despite her honest efforts to pin it down to the facts so patiently elucidated for her. She was trying to adjust the wimple, dragging at it and fighting with her loosened hair. He was indeed still in the throes of his bewilderment. “You remind me of a little blue stone I had once. Shall we sit outside and drink a petit verre of something to give us an appetite while dinner is being prepared?” “Certainly not,” she answered.
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