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She had been careless. "Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause. "How is the patient?" he asked. “Don’t!” she begged. She laughed a little contemptuously. His ideas about girls and women were of a sentimental and modest quality; they were creatures, he thought, either too bad for a modern vocabulary, and then frequently most undesirably desirable, or too pure and good for life. "At length, I have my wish," continued Mrs. He opened the door for her with a faint disagreeable smile.
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