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“I know. Supper was over. She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. All its better points were improved, while the less attractive ones (and they were few in comparison) were subdued, or removed. Playing with one hand he turned on his stool to glance at her. ” “But what did father imagine?” “Of course he imagined! Any one would! ‘What has happened, Peter?’ I asked. " "But I never saw anybody more alive. " "Then he has been unfortunate?" "That's patent enough. "I feel guilty, going away and leaving that ignorant child; but our days have been so planned that we dare not change the schedule. Spurling, indignantly; "but I can tell you we have.
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