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Her knees shook, her breath came fast, she almost felt the lurid effect of those tiny patches of rouge upon her pallor-stricken cheeks. She laughed a little contemptuously. β A trifle discomposed at being caught examining his surroundings, Gerald was provoked into retort. " "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard. βIs it your maid?β he asked. "But vere'll be the use o' vinnin'? you von't live to pay me.
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