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By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. Kneebone cordially on the shoulder, and began to laugh as heartily as any of them. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. It had been a trying day. CHAPTER XII.
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