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Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose before he began the villanies of another day. “I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. "I eat for both. His face was aquiline but sweet, the years had not yet taken the blush from his cheeks and his lips were similarly rubefacient. There was a long silence between them. John knew everybody, it seemed. His literary instincts were reviving.
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