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There was Major Price—you must recollect him, Sir Rowland,—he stumbled as he was getting out of his chair at that very gate. He would ask her to come to dinner with him in some little Italian or semiBohemian restaurant in the district toward Soho, or in one of the more stylish and magnificent establishments about Piccadilly Circus, and for the most part she did not care to refuse. " "What a mistake!" "Yes. For the love of Heaven, Jack, don't move!—Don't alter a muscle, if you can help it. The stranger looked at him as if strongly disposed to chastise his impertinence. Her body was perpetually tanned, despite the approach of winter.
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